iiiili 

liiiiii 


UJiKARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
DAVIS 


The  Truth  About  Tolna 


The  singer  bowed  again  without  speaking,  the  melancholy 
of  his  face  unaltered." 


The 
Truth  About  Tolna 


By 

Bertha  Runkle 

Author  of  "The  Helmet  of  Navarre/'  etc. 


New  York 

The  Century  Co. 

1906 


LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 


Copyright,  1906,  by 
THE  CENTURY  Co. 

Published  February  1906 


THE  DEVINNE  PRESS 


TO 

L.  H.  B. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAQK 

I    "  LOHENGRIN  " 3 

n  TOLNA 18 

m  MAURICE 34, 

iv  TOLNA  GOES  INTO  SOCIETY  .....  55 
v  MR.      ALDEN      is      NOT      ALTOGETHER 

PLEASED 81 

vi  A  BETROTHAL  A  LA  MODE 100 

vii  MR.  ALDEN  DREAMS 123 

VIH  MR.  ALDEN  WAKES 143 

ix  NOT  TO  THE  PURPOSE 160 

x  THE  CATASTROPHE 186 

xi  Miss  FANNING  MAKES  A  NEW  FRIEND    .  199 

xn  Miss  HAMMOND  FINDS  AN  OLD  FRIEND  217 

xm  MR.  ALDEN'S  TRIBULATIONS 236 

xiv  FURTHER  TRIBULATIONS  or  MR.  ALDEN  256 

xv  MR.  SMITH'S  FIANCEE     .     .     «     .     .      .  281 

xvi  A  CONTEST 303 

xvii  Miss  HAMMOND  FINDS  HERSELF  .     .     .  318 

xvni  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA      ....  333 


THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 


THE  TRUTH  ABOUT 
TOLNA 


CHAPTER  I 

"  LOHENGRIN  " 

THE  wedding-march  safely  established 
Elsa  and  her  bridegroom  in  the  center 
of  the  stage.  Denys  Alden,  watching  from  the 
wing  as  anxiously  as  if  he  had  made  the 
match,  allowed  his  furrowed  brow  to  smooth. 
Still  half  afraid  to  release  the  singers  from  his 
hypnotic  eye,  he  yet  turned  toward  the  vast 
auditorium. 

Even  in  its  semi-darkness  the  glitter  of 
jewels  traced  the  two  great  horseshoes  of 
boxes,  while,  as  the  listeners  in  the  orchestra 
chairs  stirred  with  the  sweep  and  passion  of 
the  music,  jewels  flashed  out  and  paled  again, 
like  an  army  of  fireflies.  Not  a  seat  in  the 
house  was  empty.  Not  an  auditor  but  listened 
as  if  never  before  had  the  meaning  of  music 
been  made  manifest. 


4  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

Denys  drew  the  deep  breath  of  satisfaction, 
frowning  ferociously  the  while  as  his  keen 
gaze  failed  to  discover,  in  the  cavernous  twi 
light,  the  happy  spot  where  She  was  sitting. 
For  he  knew  that  until  She  shared  his  triumph 
it  was  not  really  his,  and  the  footlights 
stretched  before  him  like  a  flaming  sword, 
beyond  which  he  might  not  even  look.  Defi 
antly  he  turned  his  back  on  the  stage;  then 
resolutely  stopped,  caught  and  held  by  the 
habit  of  years;  then  trampled  the  habit  of 
years  under  his  hurrying  feet. 

A  lightly  built,  firm-knitted,  slender  crea 
ture,  graceful,  restless,  quick  of  movement, 
eager  of  speech,  his  blue  eyes  burning  vividly 
under  the  shadow  of  long  black  hair,  he  burst 
into  the  Burnham  box  with  the  suddenness  of 
a  stage  imp  shot  from  a  trap.  Mr.  Burnham, 
taking  his  comfortable  habitual  nap  in  a  back 
corner,  habitually  left  the  duties  of  hospitality 
to  that  alert  young  woman,  Mrs.  Burnham, 
who  greeted  the  visitor  with  a  flash  of  eyes  and 
teeth  and  diamonds ;  the  rest,  silence.  So  long 
as  it  was  fashionable  to  talk  during  the  music, 
Mrs.  Nortie's  ready  tongue  was  never  still. 
But  when  good  form  said,  "Mum's  the  word," 
tortures  could  not  have  dragged  a  syllable 
from  those  determined  lips.  Even  the  young 


"LOHENGRIN'  5 

billionaire  beside  her  was  made  to  wait  till,  as 
he  put  it,  "this  row  's  over,"  before  she  would 
discuss  the  dinner  which  she  had  agreed  to 
chaperon,  where  he  would  personate  the  War 
den  of  Sing  Sing,  and  his  guests  would  march 
in,  in  lockstep,  wearing  numbers  and  stripes. 
Slipping  past  these  obstacles,  none  of  whom 
he  regarded  as  in  any  proper  sense  human 
beings,  Denys  stood  by  the  chair  of  Mrs.  Fan 
ning,  Mr.  Burnham's  sister. 

"Why,  Denys,"  she  whispered  in  surprise, 
"I  thought  you  never  left  the  wings." 

"But  you  were  never  before  in  the  audience, 
Aunt  Alice." 

The  young  girl  leaning,  absorbed,  over  the 
box-rail  started  at  the  sound  of  his  low  voice, 
and  turned  to  him. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Alden,  the  half  was  not  told  me." 

Mrs.  Fanning  began  a  sentence.  With  a 
disregard  too  unconscious  to  be  rude,  Denys 
dropped  into  the  empty  chair  beside  her 
daughter. 

"Miss  Fanning,  you  are  really  pleased?" 

"You  did  not  half  prepare  me." 

"I  was  afraid.  I  dared  not  boast  lest  you 
be  disappointed." 

"Disappointed?  I  don't  know  whether  I 
am  on  the  solid  earth," 


6  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

"I  know  that  I  am  in  heaven.  To  have  you 
feel  as  I  do!" 

She  dropped  her  eyes  before  his  ardent 
gaze,  then  looked  at  him  again  with  an  ear 
nestness  that  overcame  her  hesitation. 

"Mr.  Alden,  I— I  don't  want  to  rush  in 
where  angels  fear  to  tread,  but — does  to-night 
atone  to  you  for  your  own  calamity?" 

"My  calamity?"  he  echoed.  "Oh,  you  mean 
the  failure  of  my  singing-voice?" 

The  girl  laughed  gently.  "I  am  answered, 
if  you  don't  even  remember  your  misfortune. 
Mother  told  me  that,  at  the  time,  you  called 
the  loss  of  your  career  the  'Great  Renuncia 
tion.'  " 

"It  was  rather  a  tragedy  then,"  he  con 
ceded.  "You  see,  though  my  mother  gave  up 
her  profession  when  she  married,  she  made  our 
home  a  very  heaven  of  music.  I  never  had  a 
wish  or  an  expectation  but  to  follow  in  her 
footsteps.  My  father  wished  it,  too,  in  a  sort 
of  passionate  loyalty  to  her  memory  and  an 
understanding  of  all  that  she  had  given  up  for 
him.  And  I  did  have  the  voice,  and  the  tem 
perament,  and  a  tremendous  power  of  work, 
and  a  love  of  art  that  was—  Oh,  well!  You 
know  how  it  happened.  Over-training  broke 
my  voice,  as  I  could  snap  the  stem  of  that  rose 


"LOHENGRIN"  7 

of  yours — just  as  irrevocably."  He  fell 
silent,  his  mobile  face  dropping  into  the  lines 
it  had  worn  then.  Margery  looked  as  if,  in 
the  very  face  of  Mrs.  Nortie,  she  was  about  to 
take  his  hand. 

He  shook  an  elf-lock  back  from  his  fore 
head,  tossing  away  the  black  remembrance 
with  it. 

"But,  Miss  Fanning,  I've  gained  more- 
far  more — than  I  ever  lost.  This  boy's  voice — 
did  you  ever  hear  tone  more  golden?  He 
has  the  physique  that  I  never  had,  the  good 
looks.  He  is  the  artist  born.  Yes,  to-night 
does  atone — a  thousand  times.  To  have 
him  succeed — why,  it  's  a  thousand  thousand 
times  better  than  to  have  my  old  dream  come 
true." 

"You  are  very  generous  to  find  your  best 
happiness  in  another  man's  triumph." 

"Oh,  but  it  is  my  triumph.  I  discovered 
Tolna.  I  have  brought  him  up  from  a  school 
boy,  wakened  the  sleeping  genius,  trained  him 
by  my  own  methods,  arranged  his  every 
appearance." 

The  frank  admiration  in  her  eyes  gave  place 
to  a  twinkle  of  mischief.  "Ah,  yes,  you  told 
me  that  you  always  see  him  made  up,  and 
decide  every  fold  of  his  costumes.  Then, 


8  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

from  the  wings,  you  watch  every  gesture, 
gage  every  note?" 

"Why,  of  course.  It  is  only  by  such  means 
that  you  reach  success." 

"So,  naturally,  you  call  it  your  success?  I 
wonder  what  Monsieur  Tolna  calls  it?" 

Denys's  dark  cheek  reddened,  for  Mar 
gery's  lightest  dart  could  find  the  joints -of 
his  harness. 

She  went  on  reflectively.  "I  have  known 
young  people  who  were  proud  of  the  tricks 
they  had  taught  their  dogs  and  horses,  but  I 
have  never  before  met  the  owner  of  a  trick 
tenor." 

"Now,  that  's  as  unkind  as  it  is  unfair,  and 
quite  unworthy  of  you,  Miss  Fanning." 
Denys  was  stung  to  retort.  "It  is  not  I  who 
relegate  the  very  greatest  singer  of  our  day 
to  the  same  category  with  a  performing  dog. 
My  share  in  his  triumph  is  a  very  humble  one. 
I  have  taught  him  the  mechanics  of  his  pro 
fession.  I  have  made  sure  that  his  splendid 
gifts  should  not  be  wasted.  When  he  was 
ready  for  it,  I  took  him  to  Sbriglia.  But  the 
voice,  the  brain,  the  art,  the  passion,  all  are 
his." 

If  she  felt  the  reproof,  she  had  not  the  grace 
to  acknowledge  it. 


"LOHENGRIN"  9 

"Mr.  Alden,"  she  murmured,  "how  can  you 
set  the  example  of  talking  through  the 
music?"  and,  turning  her  pretty  profile  to 
ward  him,  she  ostentatiously  forgot  his 
existence. 

Careless  of  the  stage,  he  tried  to  read  her 
inscrutable  face.  Did  she  really  think  him  an 
egotist?  Could  she  believe  that  he — he,  of  all 
men — deprecated  Tolna' s  achievement?  Did 
she  seriously  bid  him  mend  his  manners  ? 

Quiet  Mrs.  Fanning  smiled.  She  thought 
she  knew  her  exquisite  Margery.  It  was 
amusing,  the  seriousness  with  which  the  lover 
took  these  feints  of  the  tricksy  maiden,  who 
obviously  teased  herself  not  less  than  him  by 
her  alternate  advances  and  retreats. 

With  a  shock,  Denys  perceived  that  the  act 
was  finished.  The  whole  house,  floor,  boxes, 
galleries,  was  with  one  impulse  cheering  the 
performance.  The  curtain  rose  again  and 
again,  till  at  length  Elsa,  in  her  satin  and 
pearls,  and  Lohengrin,  in  his  glittering 
breastplate,  came  hand  in  hand  along  the  foot 
lights  to  take  the  applause.  And  when,  dis 
tinct  above  the  clapping,  stamping,  and  cries 
of  "Bravo!"  came  repeated  calls  of  "Tolna! 
Tolna!"  Elsa,  laughing  and  curtseying  to  her 
companion,  drew  her  hand  away  and  ran  from 


10  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

the  stage,  leaving  the  young  tenor  alone  to 
his  triumph. 

Tall,  slender,  straight,  his  silver  armor 
against  the  dark  curtain  gleaming  with  un 
earthly  radiance,  his  outstretched  hand  grasp 
ing  his  shining  sword,  his  great,  grave  eyes 
looking  not  at,  but  past,  the  audience,  like 
eyes  that  see  visions, — he  was  the  very  incar 
nation  of  the  militant  angel,  heaven-sent  to 
champion  the  innocent,  to  right  distresses. 

For  one  moment  he  stood  absolutely  still, 
his  sword,  held  just  below  the  hilt,  lifted  up, 
as  a  cross  might  be  lifted  to  bless  and  fortify. 
Then,  with  so  swift  a  movement  that  one  could 
hardly  say  he  went,  he  was  gone. 

A  sigh  and  a  shiver  ran  over  the  vast  house. 

Tears  swimming  in  her  eyes,  Margery 
Fanning  stood  poised  at  the  very  edge  of 
the  box,  as  if  about  to  take  wing.  Mrs.  Fan 
ning  smiled  as  her  handkerchief  touched  her 
eyes. 

"Denys,  it  is  a  triumph!  I  have  never  seen 
a  self-conscious  New  York  audience  let  itself 
go  like  this." 

Margery  dropped  her  fan  and  swept  over 
the  costly  wreck  to  his  side. 

"Mr.  Alden,  for  a  moment  I  thought  it 
was  real." 


1  LOHENGRIN"  11 

He  met  her  dazzled  eyes  with  proud  con 
fidence. 

"It  is  real.    Maurus  is  that." 

"Not  Lohengrin!  No  man  could  be  really 
Lohengrin!" 

"Lohengrin"  he  affirmed,  undaunted. 
"The  champion  of  the  oppressed.  Miss  Fan 
ning,  that  man  has  only  two  interests  in  life, 
and  one  serves  the  other — his  art  and  his 
country.  Every  penny  that  his  singing 
brings  him,  he  gives  to  his  down-trodden, 
liberty-loving  Hungary.  He  is  as  shy  of  the 
world,  as  much  out  of  sympathy  with  our  life, 
as  much  wrapt  in  his  own  ideals,  as  a  young 
monk." 

"And  he  sees  no  one?  But  of  course.  How 
could  Lohengrin  talk  to  Yankees?" 

Her  mood  now  was  all  sympathy,  enthusi 
asm,  reverence,  at  one  with  his  own  mood.  He 
felt  that  he  could  say  anything  to  her  while 
her  eyes  wore  that  lovely  look. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Alden!"  Somebody  in  the  next 
box  would  not  be  longer  ignored.  Resigning 
himself,  he  shook  hands  across  the  rail  with  an 
imposing  matron  in  black  velvet. 

"Well,  Mrs.  Hammond,  how  do  you  like 
my  boy?" 

Her  great,  dark  eyes  fixed  him  tragically. 


12  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

"Your  boy!  Your  angel!  Your  knight  of 
the  Grail!  Oh,  Mr.  Alden,  what  a  message 
we  have  received  to-night!  I  am  afraid  that 
most  of  them  will  miss  the  deeper  ethical  sig 
nificance —  !  Unless  the  mind  is  attuned  spirit 
ually!  Still  they  can't  fail  to  get  something, 
can  they?  Don't  you  think,  Mr.  Alden,  that 
we  are  in  great  need  of  a  spiritual  awaken- 
ing?" 

"You  and  I,  Mrs.  Hammond?  Or  the 
wicked  rest-of- the- world?" 

"New  York,  Mr.  Alden.  This  great, 
heartless,  money-getting  city.  In  these  days 
of  divorces,  and — and  trusts,  you  know — " 

"And  flatiron  buildings,  and  third-rail 
accidents,  and  ticket-speculators,"  Denys 
prompted,  his  interest  already  straying  to  the 
silent  daughter  at  her  side  who  offered  him 
not  even  a  look  of  felicitation. 

"Miss  Hammond!"  he  challenged  her, 
abruptly. 

In  a  city  of  stylish  girls, — girls  of  a  certain 
careful  elegance  which  one  finds  nowhere  but 
on  Manhattan  Island, — a  city  of  clever  girls, 
of  attractive  girls,  but  hardly  of  beautiful 
girls, — Honor  Hammond  deserved  the  hom 
age  that  was  hers.  In  a  wilderness  of  brown 
heads,— dark  brown,  light  brown,  dun,  flaxen, 


"  LOHENGRIN "  13 

— Honor's  amber  locks  glowed  with  color  and 
light.  The  wilderness  of  girls  wore  their  hair 
rolled  softly  to  frame  their  faces,  in  that 
kindly  fashion  so  lenient  to  defects  of  feature. 
Honor's  hair,  parted  in  the  middle  and  rip 
pling  back  like  the  Clytie's,  revealed  that  her 
features  had  no  defects.  Nor  was  she  monot 
onously  blonde.  Brows  and  lashes  showed 
black  against  her  white  skin,  while  her  eyes 
were  dark,  of  what  color  no  one  could  ever  be 
sure.  Blue  in  some  lights,  sea-gray  some 
times,  hazel,  violet,  black — one  gave  up  trying 
to  fit  to  them  any  adjective  but  lovely. 

Now  that  he  had  made  her  turn  round, 
Denys  had  nothing  whatever  to  say  to  her ;  he 
never  had.  She  did  not  speak  first;  she  never 
did.  He  broke  the  awkward  little  pause. 

"Miss  Hammond,  you  have  n't  paid  me  a 
single  compliment  on  my  star." 

"I  thought  you  wanted  praise  deserved." 

He  started  as  if  she  had  struck  him. 

"Why,  what  in  the — why,  don't  you  ap 
prove  of  him?" 

"He  flatted  twice." 

"He  did  nothing  of  the  kind,"  sprang  to 
Denys's  tongue,  but  a  lady  had  made  the 
charge.  "I  didn't  observe  it,"  he  answered 
stiffly. 


14  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

"  You  were  n't  listening." 

"I  have  spent  eight  years  of  my  life  listen 
ing  to  Maurus  Tolna." 

"Then  no  wonder  your  attention  wanders." 

"Evidently  I  am  becoming  tone-deaf," 
Denys  answered,  bowing  and  turning  away. 
That  he  was  ruffled  he  showed  as  plainly  as  a 
pettish  child.  For  comfort  he  went  straight 
to  Margery. 

Sitting  alone  in  the  front  of  the  box,  she 
did  not  lower  her  opera-glasses  as  he  pushed 
up  a  chair  beside  her. 

"I  can't  imagine  why  I  always  go  up  and 
talk  to  Miss  Hammond,"  he  confided. 

"I  suppose  because  you  like  to." 

"But  I  don't." 

"She  is  the  most  beautiful  girl  in  New 
York,"  Margery  said  cordially. 

"Does  the  young  person  think  that  because 
she  looks  like  a  queen  she  is  privileged  to  act 
like  one?"  Denys  grumbled.  "Not  that  I  ever 
saw  a  queen  with  her  bad  manners — or  her 
beauty,"  he  added  with  a  change  of  tone,  as 
he  caught  a  new  view  of  Honor's  head.  "Oh, 
well,  what  do  her  manners  matter?  She  is  a 
joy  forever." 

Margery  promptly  introduced  another  sub 
ject. 


"LOHENGRIN'  15 

"What  day  did  you  say  that  you  would 
bring  Monsieur  Tolna  to  see  us?" 

Denys  smiled.    "I  don't  think  I  said." 

"So  much  the  better.  We  will  fix  the 
evening  now,  and  then  mother  and  I  will 
invite  the  elect— 'the  soulful,'  as  Mrs.  Ham 
mond  would  say — to  meet  him." 

A  troubled  look  succeeded  his  quick  smile. 

"You  are  not  in  earnest,  Miss  Fanning? 
You  know  how  scrupulously  I  carry  out  his 
wish  to  meet  nobody." 

"Perhaps  we  're  not  all  as  barbarian  as  he 
thinks  us." 

"He  does  n't  think  you  barbarian  at  all. 
Merely  as  alien  as  if  you  lived  on  another 
planet.  He  does  n't  speak  English—" 

"I  suppose  he  speaks  something  beside  his 
native  Magyar— German  or  French?  Well, 
so  do  we." 

The  furrow  was  plowed  deep  on  Denys's 
forehead. 

"Miss  Fanning,  I  should  like  to  have  you 
know  the  boy.  But  he  won't  mix  with  peo 
ple.  His  art  is  his  life.  He  is  by  nature  a 
hermit." 

"He  'd  come  if  you  asked  it.  I  'm  not  peo 
ple.  I  'm  Margery  Fanning." 

"That   's   a   cogent   reason   to  bring   me. 


16  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

But  I  'm  very  much  afraid  it  won't  bring 
Tolna." 

"Evidently  you  don't  wish  him  to  come." 

"I  don't  think  he  will  come.  Remember, 
he  is  a  foreigner  and  a  recluse." 

"And  your  intimate  friend,  who  would  do 
you  so  slight  a  favor  if  you  simply  asked 
him." 

"You  don't  understand — or,  at  least,  you 
won't  understand." 

"I  understand  very  well."  She  lifted  her 
glasses  to  scan  the  house,  but  the  faces  were 
blurred  through  sudden  tears  that  surprised 
herself.  Impulsively  she  turned  back  to 
Denys. 

"Oh,  New  York  is  very  different  from  the 
Tyrol!  There,  you  seemed  to  want  to  confide 
in  me.  You  talked  all  the  time  of  your  won 
derful  Tolna.  Of  course  you  knew  that  if  you 
and  I  were  really  friends,  I  must  expect 
some  day  to  meet  your  alter  ego,,  your  more 
than  brother.  But  it  seems  that,  after  all,  I  am 
just  a  casual  acquaintance,  not  to  be  allowed 
in  the  same  room  with  the  real  friend." 

"Dear  heart!"  he  protested,  too  startled  to 
know  what  he  was  saying.  "You  can't  mean 
that!  I  thought  you  were  just  teasing  me. 
If  you  are  really  hurt — will  you  and  your 


"  LOHENGRIN "  17 

mother  come  behind  the  scenes  after  the 
opera?  I  shall  bring  Maurus  to  your  house 
on  any  evening  you  appoint,  but  I  can't  let 
you  say  good-night  thinking  that  of  me." 

"Oh,  Denys!"  Margery  cried.  "Oh, 
Mummy!  do  you  hear  what  Denys  says?  He 
is  going  to  take  us  behind  the  scenes  to  meet 
Tolna." 

"To  meet  Tolna?  The  illusive,  elusive, 
unapproachable  Tolna?  Without  the  paint 
and  the  powder?" 

"Without  the  wig  and  buskin,  Aunt  Alice." 

"But  I  thought  no  human  eye  had  ever 
beheld  him  off  the  stage." 

"You  '11  be  the  first  that  ever  burst  into 
his  private  life." 


CHAPTER  II 

TOLNA 

TOHENGRIN,  finding,  after  all,  that  he 
J  j  could  not  abide  a  wife  made  in  Germany, 
decided  to  emigrate.  No  storm  of  applause 
greeted  the  final  curtain,  the  crowd  being  too 
eager  to  get  away  to  supper,  to  dances, — 
possibly,  in  rare  instances,  to  bed.  But  it  was 
a  genuine  tribute  to  the  performers  that  the 
opera  was  not  forgotten  the  instant  the  lights 
were  turned  on. 

"Don't  speak  to  me,"  Mrs.  Norton  Burn- 
ham  bade  her  assiduous  swain.  "What  do  I 
care  about  your  old  favors?  I  wish  we  were 
n't  going  to  supper  with  you  now.  I  want  to 
be  left  alone  to  dream  of  that  Adonis  of  a 
Lohengrin.  I  never  saw  such  a  beauty  in  my 
life." 

"But  I  've  bought  the  favors  already," 
Willoughby  Smith  pleaded  eagerly.  "Gold 
handcuffs  for  the  girls,  life-preservers  and 
jimmies  for  the  men.  We  '11  light  the  room 

18 


TOLNA  19 

with  burglars'  lanterns — well,  I  won't  tell  you 
everything,  but  you  can  bet  that  I  've  got 
some  of  the  cutest  ideas  ever.  Now  what  I 
want  to  know  is,  do  they  eat  off  tin  plates?" 

His  face  puckered  anxiously.  Mrs.  Burn- 
ham  removed  her  mind  from  Lohengrin  and 
applied  it  to  the  immediate  subject  with  the 
vigor  which  had  won  for  her  her  well-deserved 
social  eminence. 

"I  don't  remember  what  we  used  when  I 
did  time.  Your  next  move,  Willie,  is  to  inter 
view  the  Sing  Sing  warden,  and  make  him  let 
you  see  them  eat.  We  must  have  every  detail 
correct,  or  there  's  no  point  to  the  thing.  And 
I  don't  intend  to  be  mixed  up  in  a  fizzle." 

Mr.  Burnham,  having  aroused  himself  with 
reluctance,  was  talking  over  the  box-rail  to  the 
senior  partner  of  Hammond  &  Clive,  Archi 
tects.  But  unless  Lohengrin  had  lately  con 
cerned  himself  with  B.  R.  T.,  they  were  not 
speaking  of  him.  Mrs.  Hammond,  however, 
had  enthusiasm  for  two. 

"That  divine  Tolna!"  she  sighed.  "How 
he  does  make  one  forget  trivialities!  After 
such  an  evening  as  this,  one  is  lifted  above  the 
carking  cares  of  this  world.  Tell  me,  Mrs. 
Fanning,  does  Mr.  Alden  belong  to  the 
famous  John  Alden  family?" 


20  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

"I  never  asked,  Mrs.  Hammond;  I  have  not 
your  enthusiasm  for  pedigrees." 

"Say,  rather,  you  have  n't  had  my  toil 
at  them.  I  was  obliged  to  master  the 
subject,  you  know,  when  I  was  chairman 
of  the  first  Admissions  Committee  of  the 
Dames." 

The  two  daughters,  after  a  murmured 
"Miss  Hammond,"  "Miss  Fanning,"  neither 
joined  their  mothers'  talk  nor  started  a  topic 
of  their  own.  Silence,  however,  was  never 
conspicuous  in  Mrs.  Hammond's  neighbor 
hood.  That  lady  pursued  the  subject. 

"But  I  should  think  you  must  know,  Mrs. 
Fanning.  Are  n't  you  related  to  him?" 

"Not  at  all,  though  thirty  years  ago  his 
mother  taught  him  to  call  me  'Aunt.'  When 
I  was  a  girl,  I  met  her  and  her  husband  at  a 
pension  in  Rome.  She  was  the  most  fasci 
nating  creature  I  ever  saw,  half  Irish,  half 
French,  married  to  a  young  attache  at  the 
American  Legation,  who  for  grace  and  breed 
ing  might  have  been  a  prince  of  the  blood. 
She  had  been  a  prima  donna  and  she  had  the 
most  glorious  voice,  which  her  boy — my 
Denys,  a  little  chap,  then,  of  five  or  six — had 
inherited.  Years  after,  he  was  preparing  for 
opera,  with  wonderfully  brilliant  prospects, 


TOLNA  21 

when  his  voice  broke  down  from  over-training. 
It  was  a  tragedy." 

"You  had  kept  track  of  him  all  these 
years?" 

"I  am  sorry  to  say  I  had  not.  She  and  I 
meant  to  write  always,  but  you  know  how  that 
ends.  I  had  n't  thought  of  Denys  for  twenty 
years,  till,  last  summer,  I  met  him  in  the  woods 
of  the  Tyrol,  and  those  blue  eyes  in  the  dark 
face  brought  it  all  back  to  me.  Strange  to 
say,  he  remembered  that  he  had  once  had  a 
'tante  Alixe.'  " 

"What  a  delightful  chance!  For  I  under 
stand  that  he  and  Monsieur  Tolna  are  Damon 
and  Pythias." 

"Except  when  Pythias  goes  yachting. 
Denys  says  that  \  a  difference  of  attitude  at 
sea — the  contrast  between  the  perpendicular 
and  the  horizontal — is  a  strain  on  the  strong 
est  friendship.  Just  then  Monsieur  Tolna 
was  cruising  around  Cyprus,  so  that  we  could 
only  hear  about  him.  It  does  seem  as  if  Tolna 
were  sent!  It  was  in  the  dark  days  after  his 
own  voice  went,  when  life  was  a  blank  to  him, 
that  Denys  found  this  boy  with  the  golden 
throat." 

"How  touching  that  is!  They  say  he  is  a 
count,  too,  in  Hungary.  I  suppose  you  have 


22  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

been  studying  astrology  this  winter,  Mrs. 
Fanning,  with  everybody  else?  Only  by  the 
theory  of  conjunction  of  planets  can  we  ac 
count  for  such  a  friendship.  The  dreamy 
Magyar,  the  practical  American!  The  palm 
and  the  pine!" 

"I  never  saw  any  palms  in  Hungary,"  said 
Mrs.  Fanning,  resenting  an  implied  dispar 
agement  of  the  man  who  had  had  the  grace  to 
remember  her  after  more  than  five  and  twenty 
years.  "Denys  Alden  is  worthy  the  friend 
ship  of  anybody." 

"Oh,  he  is  most  attractive,"  Mrs.  Ham 
mond  acknowledged  graciously.  "So  accom 
plished  !  So  original !  But  of  course  he  's  not 
Tolna.  Surely  you,  like  the  rest  of  us, 
worship  from  afar!" 

"No;  that  does  n't  content  us.  Margery 
and  I  are  on  our  way  to  meet  him  behind  the 


scenes." 


Mrs.  Hammond  gasped,  but  countered 
admirably. 

"Indeed!  How  awkward  it  is  to  meet 
stage-people!  They  're  so  impossible  soci 
ally." 

Mrs.  Burnham,  who  had  ears  of  the  sharp 
est,  broke  off  in  the  midst  of  her  mandate  to 
Willie — "You  must  send  the  Black  Maria 


TOLNA  23 

after  the  guests" — to  whirl  round  on  her 
sister-in-law. 

"Is  Alden  going  to  take  us  to  meet  Tolna?" 

"He  said  just  Margery  and  me,"  Mrs. 
Fanning  answered,  quailing  a  little. 

"He  can't  very  well  leave  me  out — your 
hostess,"  Mrs  Nortie  cried.  The  other  was 
silent,  whereupon  Mrs.  Burnham's  good- 
humor,  never  ruffled  while  she  was  having  her 
own  way,  returned  in  all  its  native  buoyancy. 
"I  '11  take  Mr.  Smith  along.  Willie,"  she 
cried  abruptly,  her  eyes  kindling  with  inspira 
tion— "Willie,  I  '11  get  Tolna  for  your  dinner. 
Oh,  Mr.  Alden,"  she  went  on,  as  Denys 
reentered  the  box,  "I  want  to  bring  Willie 
Smith  behind  to  meet  Tolna.  You  don't 
mind,  do  you?" 

Denys  looked  a  profound  regret. 

"Unfortunately,  I  have  just  promised 
Tolna  to  limit  myself  to  two  ladies,  Mrs. 
Burnham." 

"Oh,  all  right.  Then  Willie  can  wait  here 
with  Norton.  But  you  certainly  said  three 
ladies,  Mr.  Alden." 

Denys  hesitated. 

"Suppose,"  he  suggested  finally,  "that  in 
stead  of  going  behind,  you  all  come  to  supper 
with  me  at  Sherry's?" 


24  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

"With  you  and  Tolna?" 

"Only  with  my  humble  self.  Tolna  does  n't 
go  to  suppers." 

"Then  you  '11  not  introduce  him  to  Alice 
and  Margery  till  I  'm  out  of  the  way?" 

"My  dear  Mrs.  Burnham,  I  am  desolated. 
But  you  have  heard  about  Tolna's  ways. 
Apart  from  professional  people,  he  has  n't 
consented  to  meet  a  single  stranger.  Even  I, 
his  manager,  have  n't  asked  it.  Just  now,  and 
with  trouble  enough,  too,  I  wrung  from 
him  permission  to  bring  round  my  old  friend 
and  her  daughter.  But  I  had  to  give  him  my 
word  to  ask  no  one  else.  You  see,  dear  lady, 
I  'm  helpless." 

"Well!"  ejaculated  the  astonished  hostess. 
"Well!"  The  explosive  force  of  the  mono 
syllable  seemed  to  bode  ill  for  her  guests,  when 
quiet  Mr.  Burnham  intervened  with  a  casual 
"Come,  Jess." 

"Good-night,  then,"  she  added,  with  exag 
gerated  courtesy,  and  swept  her  chiffon 
flounces  from  the  box. 

"Jessie!"  Mrs.  Fanning  cried.  "Jessie! 
Wait,  my  dear  child,"  while  Denys  started  in 
pursuit. 

"Mummy!  Mr.  Alden!"  enjoined  the  im 
perious  Margery,  and  laughed  to  see  them 
stop  obediently.  "I  beg  your  pardon.  I 


TOLNA  25 

did  n't  mean  to  give  orders.  But  really,  I 
never  saw  two  such  craven  spirits.  Jessie  runs 
all  New  York.  Nobody  ever  says  her  nay.  Do 
defy  the  tyrant  for  once.  I  saw  Uncle  Nor 
ton's  eyes  twinkle.  I  'm  sure  he  thought  it  was 
good  for  her  character." 

"I  'm  sure  she  did  n't  like  it,"  lamented 
Mrs.  Fanning. 

"Like  it?"  laughed  Margery.  "She  was 
furious.  I  know  I  should  have  been,  and  she's 
only  a  year  or  two  older  than  I  am,  and  not  a 
day  wiser.  Now,  Mummy,  do  be  human 
enough  to  enjoy  seeing  your  exuberant  young 
sister-in-law  put  down." 

But  not  even  to  please  her  adored  daughter 
could  Mrs.  Fanning  enjoy  anybody's  discom 
fiture. 

"Aunt  Alice,  it  was  my  fault,"  interposed 
the  contrite  Denys:  "I  left  her  out  just  to 
tease  her  because  she  undertook  to  manage  my 
show.  I'm  awfully  sorry  that  you  are  an 
noyed." 

"We  ought  not  to  have  let  you  ask  us, 
without  her,  when  we  were  her  guests," 
grieved  Mrs.  Fanning.  "I  do  feel  most  un 
comfortably  rude." 

"Oh,  dear  Mummy!  Must  you?  Mr. 
Alden  has  tried  so  hard  to  give  us  a  pleasure." 

At    this,    Mrs.    Fanning    forgot    Jessie's 


26  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

grievance  in  contrition  for  his,  and  sum 
moned  up  a  smile  for  him.  "Of  course,  dear. 
Lead  the  way,  Denys.  We  are  all  on  fire  to 
meet  the  hero." 

"Mr.  Alden,"  Margery  found  a  chance  to 
say,  "you  forgive  my  insistence?  After  all 
you  have  told  me,  you  can't  wonder  that  I 
long  to  meet  Monsieur  Tolna." 

"Please  forgive  my  resistance,"  he  an 
swered,  and  her  smile  conveyed  more  than 
pardon.  Yet  he  felt  an  unexpected  pang. 
Her  interest  in  Tolna  as  his  friend  he  had 
found  delightful,  but  interest  in  Tolna  as 
Tolna!  "Good  Lord!"  he  thought,  disgusted 
at  himself,  "am  I  jealous  of  Maurice?" 

As  they  approached  the  sacred  precincts 
"behind,"  Miss  Fanning  lingered: 

"Oh,  I  half  want  to  go  back.  He  can't  be 
what  I  think  he  is." 

"Wait,"  Denys  answered  simply,  knocking 
at  a  closed  door,  once  white  but  now  gray, 
scrawled  over  in  pencil  with  the  heart-thrilling 
names  of  famous  singers. 

A  quivering  moment  of  expectancy,  and 
the  hero  came  out  under  the  crude  electric 

light. 

Tall,  he  was  lent  an  air  of  greater  height 
by  the  fur-lined  overcoat  falling  to  his  feet. 


TOLNA  27 

His  hair,  now  that  Lohengrin's  flaxen  curls 
were  gone,  was  dark  brown,  thick  and  wavy. 
His  pale,  distinguished  face  bore  the  indefin 
able  but  unmistakable  look  of  race;  his  eyes, 
almond-shaped  under  wide,  level  brows,  were 
grave  as  with  all  the  sorrows  of  the  world.  He 
bowed  deeply,  in  silence,  to  each  of  the  ladies, 
as  Denys  pronounced  their  names. 

Margery  swept  a  curtsey.  Mrs.  Fanning, 
feeling  that  the  occasion  demanded  an  un 
usual  speech,  tried  vainly  to  think  of  one. 
"Denys,"  she  murmured,  "he  certainly  does 
make  one  feel  that  one  ought  to  kiss  his  hand." 
Slipping  easily  into  French,  she  bespoke 
Tolna:  "You  should  be  very  happy,  monsieur, 
in  the  power  to  give  so  much  pleasure  to 
others." 

The  singer  bowed  again  without  speaking, 
the  melancholy  of  his  face  unaltered. 

"These  ladies  are  my  oldest  friends, 
Maurus,"  Denys  explained. 

Bowing  again,  Tolna  looked  from  one  to 
the  other  of  them,  without  a  word,  with  no 
slightest  change  of  expression.  Mrs.  Fan 
ning  could  not  feel  encouraged  to  linger.  She 
bestowed  on  the  genius  her  pretty,  concilia 
tory  smile. 

"We    are    greatly    privileged,    Monsieur 


28  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

Tolna,  to  be  allowed  to  tell  you  how  much  we 
admire  your  work.  I  have  heard  many 
Lohengrins;  never  a  greater  one  than  to 
night.  And  now  we  must  not  trespass 
longer." 

"You  did  n't  think  him  rude,  Aunt  Alice?" 
Denys  besought  eagerly,  as  they  groped  their 
way  down  the  dark  steps.  "You  see  what  I 
mean  about  dreading  to  force  introductions 
upon  him.  He  does  n't  mean  to  be  rude.  He 
simply  does  n't  know  how  to  make  conversa 
tion  for  the  inhabitants  of  another  world." 

"Oh,  I  'm  so  glad  that  he  did  n't  speak." 
Margery  answered  for  her  mother.  "He 
could  n't  have  said  anything  half  so  fine  as  his 
silence.  You  'd  as  soon  expect  Watts's 
Galahad  to  talk  to  you.  I  am  so  happy." 

"I  am  so  glad,"  said  Denys,  truly,  with  re 
covered  loyalty  to  his  friend. 

Leaving  his  companions  in  the  lobby  while 
he  looked  up  his  brougham,  he  did  not  notice 
Mrs.  Burnham  waiting  with  Mr.  Smith  while 
the  executive  husband  hurried  her  carriage. 
But  she,  whom  nothing  escaped,  noticed  him, 
and  turned  upon  the  ladies  with  her  dazzling 
smile. 

"Dear  Alice,"  she  said,  "you  have  such  a 
gift  for  training.  Margy  is  such  a  success. 


TOLNA  29 

If  you  do  get  Denys  Alden  for  her,  just 
teach  him  manners,  too.  If  he  had  the  most 
rudimentary  notions  of  behavior,  he  would  n't 
be  a  bad  match,  and  we  'd  all  give  him  the  glad 
hand." 

Her  clear  voice  carried  far,  and  several 
heads  turned.  Margery,  scarlet  to  her  ears, 
could  find  no  voice  to  retort.  Mrs.  Fan 
ning  lacked  the  retort.  To  make  mat 
ters  worse,  Denys  chose  this  instant  for  his 
return. 

Quite  satisfied  that  she  bore  away  the 
honors  of  war,  Mrs.  Burnham  departed  with 
another  suave  good-night. 

"Here  's  the  brougham,  Aunt  Alice.  Why, 
what  is  the  matter?" 

"Jessie  Burnham's  impertinence." 

Denys  looked  at  her  in  exaggerated  sur 
prise. 

"Aunt  Alice,  Mrs.  Nortie  must  have  out- 
Heroded  Herod  if  you  call  her  impertinent. 
What  did  she  say?" 

"You  did  n't  hear?" 

"I  did  n't  even  see  her.  Honor  Hammond 
was  just  going  by." 

"Come  along,  pussy."  The  mother  was  all 
smiles  again,  but  the  girl's  face  and  voice 
were  cold. 


30  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

"Please  tell  the  man  to  take  us  home,  Mr. 
Alden.  I  'm  too  tired  to  go  to  supper." 

"Oh,  but  you  said  you  would,"  he  pleaded, 
while  Mrs.  Fanning  motioned  with  her  lips, 
"Better  come,  pet."  But  Margery  replied  in 
a  weary  voice  that  matched  her  words : 

"The  music  was  too  exciting.  Mr.  Alden, 
won't  you  excuse  us?" 

He  had  so  counted  on  another  hour  of 
happy  talk.  With  a  sigh,  he  put  the  ladies  in 
the  brougham  and  gave  the  chauffeur  their 
address. 

"My  dear  Denys,"  Mrs.  Fanning  pro 
tested,  "you  '11  take  us  home,  not  send  us? 
We  can't  wrest  your  automobile  from  you." 

"Perhaps  Miss  Fanning  had  rather  be 
alone  with  you,"  Denys  answered  wistfully. 

"Yes,  to-night,  thank  you,  Mr.  Alden. 
You  are  always  considerate." 

"Margy,  why  did  you  punish  him  so?"  Mrs. 
Fanning  demanded,  as  the  automobile  rolled 
out  into  Broadway.  "He  had  n't  even  com 
mitted  the  crime  of  hearing  what  Jessie  said." 

Despite  the  uncertain  light  of  the  streets, 
she  could  see  the  red  burn  in  Margery's 
cheeks,  while  her  voice  shook. 

"I  won't  endure  having  people  hand  me 
over  to — "  to  say  his  name  was  impossible. 


TOLNA  31 

"My  dear  child,  nobody  is  handing  you 
over,  least  of  all  your  mother,  who  dreads  the 
very  thought  of  giving  up  her  daughter." 

Margery's  hand  slid  into  that  kind  elder 
hand  that  had  never  failed  her. 

"You  're  always  lovely,  Mummy.  But — 
oh,  dear,  because  one  finds  a  person  pleasant 
to  talk  to,  does  that  excuse  Jessie's  outrageous 
insin— "  she  broke  off,  choked  with  an  angry 
disgust,  while  her  mother  stroked  her  hair  in 
silent  consolation.  When  Margery  spoke 
again,  the  voice  that  a  moment  ago  had  trem 
bled  with  wrath  trembled  with  laughter. 
"Besides,  if  I  must  be  credited  with  possessing 
Mr.  Alden,  I  will  possess  him.  He  sha'n't 
go  mooning  after  any  beautiful  Miss  Ham 
monds." 

"Oh,  Madge!  is  that  it?  He  does  n't  care 
a  straw  for  Honor  Hammond." 

Margery  laughed  again,  snuggling  up  to 
her  mother's  shoulder  like  an  affectionate 
kitten. 

"To  tell  the  truth,  Mummy,  I  am  not  much 
worried  over  Honor.  But  it  was  such  fun  to 
give  old  Denys  a  shock." 

MEANTIME,   Denys,   plodding   home   across 
the  snow-covered  city,  was  wondering  whether 


32  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

his  divinity  was  merely  tired,  or,  for  some  in 
explicable  reason,  offended.  She  was  not  very 
strong,  he  knew ;  yet  a  moment  before  she  had 
seemed  in  the  highest  spirits.  But  how  could 
he  have  displeased  her?  If  Mrs.  Burnham 
had  been  rude  about  him,  as  he  was  keen 
enough  to  guess,  why  must  Margery  lay  his 
enemy's  sins  on  his  shoulders? 

By  turns,  his  mind  supported  each  possi 
bility,  as  a  juggler  tosses  yet  another  and 
another  ball.  He  might  have  distracted  him 
self  for  hours  over  the  problem,  but  that,  as 
he  neared  his  house,  old  habit  appealed  to  the 
ruling  passion  of  his  life — concern  for 
Maurice  Tolna.  "I  need  n't  have  sent  him 
home  alone,  and  I  ought  n't  to,"  he  thought, 
as  he  visualized  the  tenor's  carriage  wrecked 
by  a  trolley-car.  "And  how  could  I  have  let 
him  stand  indoors  with  his  fur  coat  on?"  A 
sudden  apprehension  of  hazard  to  the  singer's 
wonderful  high  C  smote  him  with  a  physical 
pang. 

Convinced  that  something  must  have  gone 
wrong,  since  to  acknowledge  that  all  might 
go  right,  was  to  deny  the  indispensability  of 
Mr.  Denys  Alden, — he  crossed  Park  Avenue 
and  turned  down  his  own  block.  There  were 
few  lamp-posts,  and  most  of  the  houses  were 


TOLNA  33 

dark.  Suddenly  he  quickened  his  pace,  as  he 
detected,  across  the  way,  the  figure  of  a  man 
lounging  against  an  area  railing,  apparently 
in  deep  study  of  the  building  that  sheltered 
the  eminent  Tolna. 

"Burglar  or  reporter?"  wondered  Denys, 
just  as  the  policeman  on  the  beat  neared  the 
lurking  prowler.  His  hand  rested  easily  on 
his  night-stick  as  he  said  with  jaunty  polite 
ness,  "Good  avenin'." 

"Good  evening,  Dillon,"  came  the  ready 
answer.  "Easy  with  that  plaything ;  I  'm  just 
taking  my  evening  stroll." 

The  lounger  slid  off  the  rail,  removing  his 
hat. 

Dillon  exclaimed,  "Mr.  Tolna!  Well,  I  'm 
dommed !  To  hear  you  talk  United  States !" 


CHAPTER  III 

MAURICE 

not?  I  was  n't  born  in  County 
Clare,"  the  tenor  retorted,  as  Denys 
seized  his  arm. 

"Maurice,  art  thou  mad,  then?"  he  said  in 
rapid  French.  "Come  into  the  house  and 
hold  thy  tongue,  idiot  that  thou  art!" 

"All  right,"  acquiesced  the  Hungarian 
patriot.  "Come  along,  Dillon,  and  have  a 
drink." 

"An'  I  med  a  shtep  forward  to  accept  his 
invitation,"  Mr.  Dillon  explained,  some  days 
later,  to  an  enterprising  reporter,  "whin  I  see 
Mr.  Alden's  face  under  the  gas-light.  Well, 
you  bet  I  did  n't  go.  I  says,  'Thankin'  ye 
kindly,  sor,  but  I  can't  lave  me  bate.'  An'  he 
says, — the  dago,  I  mane, — 'Nayther  can  I, 
worse  luck!  Good-night,  Mr.  Dillon.'  ' 

On  their  own  steps,  out  of  the  policeman's 
hearing,  Denys  burst  out,  "In  the  name  of 
common  sense,  why  English?" 

34 


MAURICE  35 

Before  Tolna  could  answer,  the  door  was 
flung  open  by  an  agitated  valet. 

"Ah,  Monsieur  Aldanne,  how  I  am  glad 
that  you  arrive.  My  monsieur,  I  could  do 
nothing  with  him.  He  would  stand  himself 
in  the  snow— the  melting  snow,  monsieur." 

"The  snow  melts— I  don't,"  the  guilty  one 
retorted,  as  Francois  rid  him  of  fur  coat  and 
overshoes. 

"No,  monsieur!  But  if  monsieur's  voice 
melts,  and  then  monsieur's  dollars?" 

"Then  I  will  go  valeting  some  other  poor 
devil  of  a  singer,  and  make  his  life  a  burden, 
as  Fran9ois  has  taught  me  how." 

"The  first  thing,"  announced  Denys,  who, 
not  being  a  celebrated  singer,  had  taken  off 
his  own  coat  and  overshoes — "the  first  thing 
on  the  program  is  to  make  you  a  hot  Scotch." 

Half-way  up  the  stairs  the  other  turned 
with  a  flashing  smile.  "Oh,  Denys,  let  it  be 
the  last,  too!" 

His  keeper  sprang  after  him.  Tolna 
cleared  the  rest  of  the  flight  four  steps  at  a 
time,  at  the  top  suddenly  letting  out  the  full 
volume  of  his  magnificent  voice : 

' '  Oh,  let  me  the  cannikin  clink,  clink, 
And  let  me  the  cannikin  clink !  ' ' 


36  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

The  chandelier  in  the  library  shook,  and 
all  its  old-fashioned  prisms  rang.  Denys 
flung  himself  on  the  singer. 

"Stop  it,  you  loon!  They  '11  hear  you  in 
the  next  house." 

"Be  a  treat  for  'em.  Never  mind  me, 
Denny;  hurry  up  that  Scotch. 

"The  tenor  's  a  man — 
Man's  life  's  but  a  span : 
Why,  then  let  the  tenor  drink." 

"He  seems  not  to  have  waited  for  leave." 

Maurice's  beautiful,  mournful  face  might 
have  melted  the  heart  of  a  gargoyle. 

"Commentary  on  the  life  of  a  much-envied 
singer!  Whenever  he  shows  the  least  indica 
tion  of  good  spirits,  his  friends  conclude  them 
to  be  alcoholic.  Oh,  mine  is  a  gay  life !  No, 
father  confessor;  I  have  touched  not,  tasted 
not,  handled  not.  But,  beginning  with  the 
pleasant  poison  you  thrust  upon  me,  hence 
forth  do  I  drown  my  sorrows  in  the  bowl !  A 
good  scheme,  eh,  Fra^ois?"  And  he  re 
peated  the  proposition  in  laborious  French. 
Francois  smiled,  as  one  humors  a  child's 
vagaries. 

"It  might  be  agreeable.  Monsieur's  career, 
however—" 


MAURICE  37 

"Oh,  damn  my  career!" 

"You  came  near  damning  it  yourself, 
Maurice.  What  possessed  you  to  camp  in  a 
snowdrift  after  singing?" 

"I  was  enjoying  a  view  of  my  cage  from 
the  outside.  Bars  look  so  much  prettier  from 
without  than  from  within." 

Denys  eyed  his  friend  curiously;  looked 
away,  resolved  to  mind  his  own  business; 
looked  back  again,  and  spoke. 

"What  is  the  matter,  boy?  You  Ve  been 
out  of  sorts  for  a  month." 

"Can't  you  let  a  poor  singer  have  even  a 
grouch  in  peace?" 

"I  can't  understand  the  wherefore  of  it. 
You  're  making  fifty  thousand  a  year;  you  're 
the  idol  of  the  hour — " 

"I  suppose  you  mean  the  letters  I  never 
read,  from  women  I  never  heard  of." 

"That  's  your  loss.  A  look  at  them  would 
cure  Hamlet's  melancholy." 

"Not  if  they  were  written  to  him.  They 
make  me  sick." 

"I  'm  going  to  publish  a  book  some 
day,"  Denys  mused.  "  '  The  Matinee  Girl's 
Complete  Letter- Writer  and  Hero-Wor 
shiper's  Guide.'  There  was  one  note,  yester 
day,  beginning :  c  I  could  not  write  to  you,  a 


38  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

stranger,  did  I  not  feel  that  so  beautiful  a 
face- 

"Shut  up,  you  ass!" 

"I  'm  not  composing  it.  It  was  in  your  mail 
yesterday,  '—that  so  beautiful  a  face  must  be 
the  symbol  of  a  beautiful  soul  —  ' 

A  sofa-pillow  took  him  full  in  the  mouth, 
thence  to  fall  on  his  glass  and  break  it. 

"You  're  not  cut,  Denys  ?  No,  I  see  it  is  n't 
cut  glass,"  Tolna  answered  himself,  as  he 
bent  to  pick  up  the  fragments.  But  Alden 
cried  out  with  his  never-sleeping  anxiety  : 

"Maurice,  don't  touch  it!    Ring  for  Fran- 


With  a  groan  of  disgust,  the  tenor  flung 
himself  down  on  the  divan,  his  face  against 
the  wall.  Francois,  coming  in,  was  bidden  to 
clear  away  the  breakage.  His  master  rolled 
over,  fixing  the  valet  with  a  solemn  eye. 

"Francois,  what  dost  think  of  a  pretended 
friend,  a  traitor,  who  makes  himself  to  cut 
the  throat  of  his  unsuspecting  comrade,  his 
brother  of  the  heart,  with  a  piece  of  glass?" 

The  valet  looked  bewildered.  "But  mon 
sieur  is  not  hurt?" 

Maurice  clutched  the  man's  wrist.  His 
voice  was  intense,  his  eyes  glittered. 

"No,  not  to-night.    To-night,  seest  thou,  I 


MAURICE  39 

foiled  him.  But  for  this  long  time  he  seeks 
to  kill  me.  Inch  by  inch,  day  by  day,  for 
a  long,  long  time.  He  sucks  out  my  life 
as  a  vampire  sucks  blood.  Understandest 
thou?" 

It  was  evident  that  Fra^ois  was  far  from 
understanding.  Held  in  Maurice's  tight 
grip,  he  glanced  at  "Monsieur  Aldanne," 
frightened,  incredulous,  suspicious,  altogether 
puzzled.  His  eyes,  slinking  away  from  the 
indignant  glance  they  encountered,  fell  again 
on  his  master's  tense  face. 

"Monsieur,"  he  stammered— "monsieur,  it 
seems  impossible." 

"Monsieur  jests,"  Denys  interrupted 
sharply.  "Go!" 

Fra^ois  obeying  with  all  alacrity,  Denys 
broke  into  unwilling  laughter. 

"How  old  are  you,  Maurice?  Ten?  For  a 
minute  that  fool  believed  you." 

The  tenor  sat  up,  smoothing  back*the  strag 
gling  hair  that  had  lent  so  much  to  his  dra 
matic  effect. 

"Ha!  ha!  scoffer,  am  I  then  great?  You 
always  say  that  I  can't  act.  You  see  for 
yourself  that  I  can,  only  your  rotten  operas 
don't  give  my  genius  any  scope." 

"I  '11  let  Weber  and  Fields  have  you." 


40  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

"Do!  That  's  just  in  my  line.  I  'd  sing 
'em  Jeames's  song: 

"R.  Hangeline,  R.  Lady  Mine, 
Dost  thou  rem-e-em-ber  Jeames?  " 

till  there  was  n't  a  dry  eye  in  the  house.  No,  I 
would  n't,  though;  I  'm  sick  of  the  foot 
lights." 

"I  wish  you  'd  confide  in  your  anxious 
manager.  What  is  the  matter  with  you?  It 
is  n't  overwork,  that  I  '11  swear.  And  it  is  n't 
nerves,  for  I  've  known  you  fourteen  years, 
and  you  have  n't  any.  As  far  as  I  can  see, 
everything  is  lovely  and  the  goose  hangs  high. 
I  can  only  conclude  that  you  're  in  love." 

Maurice  ejaculated  a  sound  between  a 
laugh  and  a  snort. 

"In  love?    Me?" 

"Yes,  you." 

"Gad!  I  wish  I  was.  But  where  under  the 
canopy  do  I  meet  anybody  to  fall  in  love 
with?" 

"Well,  I  have  suspected  it  was  Arnheim." 

Maurice  groaned.  "Arnheim?  Arn— ? 
Great  Scott!  man,  she  's  an  opera-singer." 

"Does  that  make  you  immune?" 

"Might  n't  some  Johnnies,  perhaps,"  he 


MAURICE  41 

conceded  doubtfully.  "I  'd  as  soon  cherish  a 
tender  passion  for  that  andiron.  Lord,  how 
I  hate  everything  that  has  to  do  with  the  life !" 

"  You  have  been  in  the  life,  studying  and 
performing,  for  eight  years.  I  never  heard 
you  say  a  word  against  it  before.  If  it  is  n't 
a  woman  that  has  upset  you,  then  what  the 
deuce  is  it?" 

Maurice,  looking  down  into  the  fire,  smiled 
a  tender  smile,  such  as  the  sweetheart  he 
denied  might  well  have  been  happy  to  inspire. 

"Don't  you  really  know  what  it  is,  Denys? 
It 's  New  York." 

His  comrade  looked  blank. 

Maurice  amplified.  "Little  old  New  York, 
where  I  was  born.  I  was  all  right  till  you 
brought  me  here.  Over  there,  I  did  n't  mind 
the  confinement.  There  was  nothing  to  be 
confined  from — " 

"Paris,  Rome,  Vienna,  nothing?  O  ye 
gods!" 

"Well,  I  suppose  I  am  the  only  good  Amer 
ican  who  does  n't  want  to  go  to  Paris  when  he 
dies.  I  might  like  it  if  I  had  seen  it  first  as  a 
man.  But  it 's  no  place  for  a  boy.  And  what 
an  awfully  forlorn  youngster  I  was!  I  had 
just  lost  father  and  mother  and  two  setter 
puppies.  Besides,  the  grocer  from  Sixth 


42  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

Avenue  who  bought  our  house  threw  my  tele 
phone — my  telephone,  that  I  had  made  myself 
—into  the  ash-barrel.  I  saw  it  there.  Then 
you  took  me  away  from  my  school  and  my 
playmates,  and  put  me  where  I  could  n't 
speak  a  word  of  the  language  and  had  to  play 
with  mocking  little  French  boys  in  buttoned 
kid  shoes.  Sometime  I  am  going  to  have  a 
model  made  of  Paris — like  the  ones  in  archi 
tectural  shows — and  kick  it!" 

"But  that  homesickness  was  only  at  first. 
You  outgrew  it." 

"Oh,  yes ;  but  I  never  outgrew  remembering 
that  early  misery,  and  chalking  it  up  against 
Paris.  Then  we  moved  on  to  Heidelberg,  for 
me  to  learn  German;  and  because  I  came  from 
France,  young  German}^  had  no  use  for  me. 
By  the  time  we  went  to  Rome  I  was  hardened. 
Not  that  I  love  Rome  more,  but  other  places 
less.  Then  came  Berlin,  Dresden,  Paris 
again,  Vienna,  St.  Petersburg.  They  were  all 
much  of  a  muchness  to  me.  I  never  really 
liked  any  of  'em,  but  by  this  time  I  had  for 
gotten  what  home  was  like.  And  when  the 
Americans  over  there  told  me  how  dirty  and 
noisy  and  ugly  and  crude  and  sordid  and  vul 
gar  New  York  was,  I  believed  'em.  Bless  its 
heart!" 


MAURICE  43 

Denys's  face  was  lighted  with  a  keen  inter 
est. 

"Curious,"  he  commented.  "Most  children 
that  are  educated  abroad  never  feel  at  home 
in  the  States  afterwards.  I  came  home  at 
twenty  and  stuck  it  out  one  winter;  hated  my 
country  every  hour  of  that  time.  And  now, 
if  this  was  n't  Tom  Tiddler's  ground,  I  'd  go 
back  to-morrow.  Let  's  see;  you  were  four 
teen  when  I  took  you  across,  and  you  were 
there  thirteen  years.  Then  you  strike  Ameri 
can  soil  and  rave  like  this." 

"Reversion  to  type.  Ever  hear  of  a  savage 
rescued  by  missionaries,  brought  up  by  sound 
Evangelicals,  and  sent  home  to  bring  sweet 
ness  and  light  to  the  tribe?  What 's  he  doing, 
the  end  of  the  second  week?  Why,  helping  his 
three  wives  eat  his  grandmother." 

"So  you  want  to  'revert,'  do  you?" 

"In  the  first  place,"  mused  Maurice— "in 
the  first  place,  I  want  to  be  obliged  to  get  up 
early.  Oh,  yes ;  I  know  I  sleep  like  a  pig  till 
noon,  but  I  can't  enjoy  it  because  it  's  my 
duty  to  sleep  late.  If  it  was  my  duty  to  get 
up  early,  how  I  should  revel  in  lazy  Sundays, 
reading  the  papers  in  bed!  Week-days,  I 
should  have  breakfast  at  half -past  seven- 
fruit,  oatmeal,  and  beefsteak  and  fried  pot  a- 


44  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

toes,  and  hot  biscuits  and  waffles.  Then  I 
should  take  a  Fourth  Avenue  car — " 

"And  hang  on  to  a  strap  for  forty -two 
blocks." 

"Glad  of  the  chance.  You  have  n't  let  me 
ride  on  a  trolley-car  once,  for  fear  of  mi 
crobes,  and  in  the  old  days  there  were  n't  any 
trolleys ;  only  yellow  horse -cars  on  Broadway, 
and  red  on  Fourth  Avenue,"  Maurice  com 
plained.  "Well,  anyhow,  I  'd  go  down  to  my 
office  to  scratch  round  all  day  for  a  living,  in 
company  with  a  crowd  of  my  fellow-towns 
men  of  precisely  my  aims  and  ideals.  Then 
I  should  come  home  to  dinner  at  half -past  six, 
— seven,  when  we  had  company, — and  in  the 
evening  I  should  take  my  wife  to  the  the 
ater-" 

"Then  there  is  a  girl  in  it?" 

"  Yes,  there  's  a  dream-girl  that  wears  light 
blue." 

"Well,  of  all  the  bourgeois  ideals—" 

"That 's  what  I  am — bourgeois  to  the  back 
bone.  Nobody  knows  it  better  than  you." 

Denys's  face  puckered  into  laughter.  "It 's 
the  biggest  joke  in  the  world.  Here  are  you 
with  your  wonderful  voice  and  perfect  ear 
and  perfect  physique  for  singing.  And  you 
are  no  more  a  musician  than  the  boy  that 


MAURICE  45 

hands  out  the  programs.  You  Ve  got  that 
beautiful,  high-bred  face— don't  throw  any 
more  pillows,  I  beseech  you!  I  am  not  com 
plimenting  you.  I  am  merely  enumerating 
the  firm's  assets.  You  have  extraordinary 
personal  beauty,  and  such  pleading  eyes  that 
nobody  can  look  at  you  without  wanting  to 
give  you  a  bone.  If  there  were  ever  anybody 
born  who  ought  to  have  the  finer  feelings,  it 
is  you.  But  behind  that  romantic  facade  of 
yours,  you  have  n't  any  more  soul — " 

"Than  a  Tammany  heeler?" 

"If  you  like.  When  I  took  you,  you  were 
as  commonplace  a  little  animal  as  it  has  ever 
been  my  misfortune  to  encounter.  But  I  said 
to  myself  that  all  growing  boys'  souls  were  in 
their  stomachs;  that  you  must  become  more 
interesting  by  and  by.  When  you  began  your 
singing  again,  I  was  sure  that  the  tempera 
ment  would  show.  You  used  your  voice 
beautifully,  precisely  as  you  were  taught; 
and  you  sang  sweetly,  melodiously,  always  on 
the  key,  and  always  exactly  as  if  you  were 
singing  scales.  Romeo  or  Tannhduser  or 
Don  Giovanni — it  was  all  one  to  you.  You 
sang  them  all  in  the  same  faithful,  conscien 
tious,  damned  uninterested,  uninteresting 
way.  I  can  tell  you,  sonny,  black  care  sat  on 


46  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

my  shoulders.  I  was  fairly  tearing  my  hair 
when  an  inspiration  came  to  me.  It  would 
wake  you  up  to  fall  in  love." 

Maurice,  stretched  out  on  the  divan,  lis 
tened  with  the  bored  patience  of  a  child  help 
less  to  stop  its  elders'  irrelevant  conversation. 
Denys  was  thoroughly  in  the  swing  of  his 
recital,  his  eyes  dancing  with  reminiscent 
amusement. 

"I  could  n't  get  rid  of  the  notion  that  you 
must  be  romantic.  Who  would  n't  believe  it, 
to  look  at  you?  So  I  gave  you  every  oppor 
tunity  to  fall  in  love  with  the  Princess  lisa,  a 
fairy-book  princess,— you  '11  admit  that,— 
even  to  the  golden  hair;  young,  lovely,  of  the 
proudest  race.  All  Europe  went  mad  about 
her  that  year,  I  know.  But  she  did  n't  please 
your  highness.  'Doughface,'  I  believe,  was 
your  flattering  term." 

"There  's  no  use  falling  in  love  with  a  prin 
cess.  What  could  she  be  to  me?" 

"Practical  to  the  last !  Oh,  I  saw  at  once  it 
would  n't  work.  Well,  since  you  would  n't 
cherish  an  ideal  passion,  I  tried  you  with  an 
earthly  one.  I  flung  you  at  Liane  de  Lancy. 
I  thought  she  would  wake  you  up,  if  anybody 
could.  But  you  said  that  you  liked  more  soap 
and  less  scent." 


MAURICE  47 

"Well,  so  I  do.  Give  me  Croton,  and  keep 
your  cosmetics." 

"Hear  the  man  from  Podunk!" 

Maurice  sat  up. 

"Oh,  yes,  I  'm  from  Podunk,  if  you  call 
this  Podunk — and  I  suppose  a  cultured 
person  like  you  does.  I  'm  a  Podunker, 
and  I  glory  in  my  shame.  I  was  born 
in  West  Ninth  Street,  and  named  after 
Gouverneur  Morris,  though  you  will  call  me 
Maurice—" 

"Sounds  so  much  better." 

"Sounds  like  OTlaherty." 

"And  Morris  sounds  like  Ickleheimer." 

"Maurice  is  n't  convincingly  Hungarian, 
either." 

"But  remember  I  had  called  you  that  for 
years  before  I  found  out  that  you  were  Hun 
garian.  It  's  Maurus  on  the  billboards.  But 
I  scorn  to  deceive,  boy.  When  people  ques 
tion  me,  I  always  say  quite  frankly  that  your 
name  is  assumed.  Tolna  is  the  province  where 
your  father's  estates — " 

"Where  you  once  spent  a  vacation." 

"No,  I  was  never  in  Tolna,"  Denys  an 
swered  seriously.  "But  I  particularly  fancy 
the  name.  It  makes  one  think  of  Talma,  and 
puts  one  in  an  expectant-of -dramatic-genius 


48  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

frame  of  mind.     There  's  a  great  deal  in  a 


name." 


"Oh,  well,  the  name  does  n't  matter.  What 
I  do  kick  about  is  the  slavery  of  the  existence. 
I  don't  even  get  the  customary  Sunday  out. 
If  I  were  a  maniac,  you  and  Frai^ois 
could  n't  shadow  me  more  closely.  If  I  were 
the  last  feeble  scion  of  a  royal  race,  you 
could  n't  pamper  me  more.  You  won't  even 
let  me  speak  my  own  language,  for  fear  some 
body  will  find  out  that  I  'm  a  plain  Yankee — " 

"But  you  know  as  well  as  I  do  how  things 
went  on  the  other  side,  boy.  They  all  said  that 
you  were  handsome  and  that  you  had  a  good 
voice,  even  an  unapproachable  voice,  but  no 
magnetism,  no  temperament,  no  art.  After 
my  eight  years  of  slaving  at  you,  you  would 
never  have  got  even  a  fourth-rate  engagement 
in  your  life  if  Hirt  had  n't  seen  you  and 
booked  you  on  your  looks." 

"And  given  you  a  chance  to  make  Ananias 
look  like  a  timid  amateur." 

"Hirt  gave  me  the  idea  when  he  said,  'I 
don't  care  whether  he  can  sing  or  not,  he  '11 
fetch  the  women.' ' 

"Some  day,  confound  you,  I  shall  murder 
you,  Denny!" 

"We  both  know,  sonny,  that  on  the  other 


MAURICE  49 

side  they  don't  care  much  about  the  person 
ality  of  artists.  It  is  enough  that  they  are 
artists.  Over  here,  the  personality  is  the 
whole  thing.  So  I  made  up  my  mind  that  I 
would  n't  stop  at  showing  New  York  your 
good  looks — I  'd  just  fit  you  out  with  a  halo 
of  romance.  Most  romantic  people  in  the 
world,  Americans.  Nothing  is  too  preposter 
ous  for  them  to  credit." 

"You  ought  to  know.  If  they  '11  believe 
you,  they  '11  believe  Munchausen." 

"Therefore,  dear  boy,  you  're  a  Hungarian 
patriot.  I  could  n't  make  you  French  or  Ger 
man  or  Italian,  because  you  speak  them  all  as 
if  you  had  learned  them  at  a  New  York 
School  of  Languages — Spanish  Language 
and  Literature  taught  in  Ten  Lessons— that 
sort  of  thing.  Any  intelligent  person  would 
find  you  out  at  the  second  sentence.  Now,  on 
the  other  hand,  nobody  speaks  Magyar,  and 
nobody  knows  much  about  Hungary.  It  is  a 
beautiful,  romantic  country,  vaguely  and 
delightfully  associated  with  Tokay,  gipsy- 
music,  and  Kossuth — " 

"And  the  other  mutton,  in  the  Fifth 
Reader,  who  Shrieked  when  Freedom  fell." 

"Kosciuszko  was  a  Pole,  but  no  matter. 
You  simply  prove  my  point  that  the  average 


50  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

idiot  does  n't  know  any  difference.  Well, 
Maurice,  even  you  must  admit  that,  being  a 
Hungarian,  you  had  to  be  a  patriot,  as  a  mat 
ter  of  course.  The  dear  public  remembers 
that  Hungary  is  oppressed,  though,  to  save 
their  lives,  they  could  n't  tell  what  oppresses 
her-" 

"They  may  remember  the  members  of  the 
Diet  shying  inkstands  at  one  another." 

" — and  they  love  patriotism,  when  it 
does  n't  cost  them  anything.  They  are 
charmed  to  have  you  devote  your  fortune  to 
freeing  Hungary." 

"As  you  swear  to  'em  that  I  do.  The  bare 
faced  humbug  of  it  makes  me  sick." 

Denys  straightened  up  with  fire  in  his  eyes. 

"You  make  me  sicker!  I  always  knew  that 
you  were  a  Philistine  and  a  Podunker,  but  I 
never  before  suspected  you  of  hankering  for 
the  ranks  of  the  Truly  Good.  Don't  talk 
cant,  Maurice." 

"If  you  call  it  cant  to  object  to  obtain 
money  on  false  pretenses — " 

"No  false  pretenses  about  it.  You  are 
hired  to  sing.  Well,  you  fill  the  contract  by 
singing  to  the  best  of  your  abilities.  To-night 
you  went  off  the  key  twice,  which  you  never 
do  except  when  you  are  careless.  You  can  be 


MAURICE  51 

conscience-stricken  over  that,  if  you  like.  But 
don't,  for  heaven's  sake,  get  an  attack  of  vir 
tue  because  I  fool  a  crowd  of  silly  women  who 
love  to  be  fooled." 

"Well,  if  you  think  it  a  joke-" 
"Of  which  the  cream  is  that  you  don't." 
"It  dims  the  dazzling  humor  of  a  joke  to 
be  the  butt  of  it." 

"The  dear  public  is  the  butt.     You  are- 
well,  the  butting  agency." 

"The  goat?  That 's  what  I  complain  of." 
"My  dear  fellow,"  Denys  protested  seri 
ously,  "it  is  a  perfectly  legitimate  advertising 
dodge.  A  little  newer  than  having  one's 
diamonds  stolen,  that 's  all.  Every  star  has  a 
press-agent  to  circulate  legends  about  him; 
sallies  of  wit,  or  touching  domestic  anecdotes. 
I  flatter  myself  that  I  do  the  trick  rather  bet 
ter.  Besides,  I  wanted  to  see  how  much  the 
public  really  would  swallow.  And  they  swal 
lowed  you  whole." 

"Good  simile !    Your  methods  make  me  feel 
like  a  patent  medicine." 

"My  young  friend,  you  are  suffering  from 
the  big-head." 

"I ?    The  most  disgusted  man  in  America?" 

"You  think  that  you  amount  to  something 

on  your  own  merits.    You  have  n't  any.    You 


52  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

can't  sing.  You  can't  act.  You  can't  feel. 
Oh,  I  admit  that  you  produce  beautiful  tone, 
but  that  is  n't  singing.  Morris  Fordham  go 
ing  to  the  opera-house  to  render  a  part,  as  he 
would  go  to  a  coal-yard  to  shovel  egg,  singing 
stolidly  for  three  hours,  and  going  home  again 
with  a  'Thank  God,  that  's  over!'  is,  by  your 
leave,  an  utterly  uninteresting  person.  No 
body  would  pay  to  hear  him  twice.  But  the 
man  of  my  creation,  Maurus  Tolna,  dreamer 
and  patriot,  brooding  over  the  sorrows  of  his 
bleeding  country,  and  occasionally,  it  must  be 
confessed,  forgetting  to  act— how  can  any 
body  censure  him  when  all  his  actions  glitter 
in  the  limelight  of  romance?  Critics  forbear, 
reporters  stand  about  you,  ten  deep,  and  the 
letters  you  receive  each  morning  from  total 
strangers  who  ought  to  know  better  hang  a 
paper-and-rubbish  sign  in  our  basement  win 
dow  every  day  in  the  week." 

"And  you  call  that  success?" 

"I  call  it  dollars.  Besides—"  the  red 
burned  again  in  Denys's  dusky  cheek — "I 
don't  expect  you  to  understand  me,  Maurice. 
You  could  n't.  But  I  think  I  '11  mention  it, 
for  once.  So  far  as  I  was  concerned,  there  had 
to  be  a  Tolna.  He  was  ready  to  my  hand — ex 
cept  the  soul.  Lord,  how  it  hurt  when  I  had  to 


MAURICE  53 

give  up  that!  Give  it  up?  Maurice,  I 
could  n't  give  it  up!  Who  said  that  if  there 
were  n't  a  God,  man  would  have  to  invent 
one?  Why,  he  has  always  been  inventing 
them,  because  he  could  n't  live  without.  Well, 
that  was  my  case.  Old  Wordsworth  saw  into 
things  when  he  wrote,  'We  live  by  admira 
tion.'  I  know  that  I  do.  I  understand,  now, 
how  hard  it  has  been  on  you,  my  boy;  but  to 
me —  Oh,  well,  what  is  the  use?" 

Maurice  was  sobered  for  a  moment.  Then 
he  began  to  laugh,  again. 

"You  're  a  queer  mixture,  Denny.  I 
have  n't  done  you  justice,  really.  Well, 
you  've  shown  me  the  Me,  as  you  see  it — or 
was  it  the  not-Me?  Now  this  is  how  I  see  you. 
You  'd  be  perfectly  happy  if  I  really  were 
Maurus  Tolna.  For  years  you  hoped  against 
hope  that  I  was.  Then,  when  you  had  to 
admit  that  it  was  n't  in  me,  you  must  go  to 
work  and  make  your  romantic  hero  to  your 
own  order.  You  simply  had  to  have  one  to 
play  with.  You  took  almost  as  much  comfort 
out  of  Tolna  as  if  he  were  n't  merely  some 
thing  you  'd  faked  up  out  of  your  own  inner 
consciousness.  You  know  you  love  bambooz 
ling  an  audience  about  Tolna's  romantic  his 
tory  and  medieval  idiocies,  and  you  half 


54  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

deceive  yourself  while  you  're  doing  it.  But  at 
the  same  time  you  never  lose  sight  of  the  fact 
that  you  wholly  deceive  your  audience,  which 
tickles  you  to  the  last  extent.  You  do  it  for 
the  dollars,  and  you  don't  do  it  for  the  dollars. 
You  do  it  partly  to  prove  what  fools  these 
mortals  be,  and  partly  because  you  enjoy 
working  your  imagination,  like  a  kid  playing 
make-believe  soldiering.  And  partly — yes,  I 
do  believe  that  by  some  strange  twist  your 
sense  of  the  ideal  has  got  snarled  up  in  it. 
Denys,  there  's  a  fence  down  the  middle  of 
your  brain.  One  side  is  a  wild-oats  tangle  of 
craziness,  and  the  other  is  a  neat  little  potato- 
patch  of  practicality." 

"Then  come  and  play  in  my  potato-patch; 
and  say  that  you  like  the  dollars." 

"Have  n't  I  said  that  I  'm  an  American? 
I  like  one  other  thing,  too,  Denny,"  Maurice's 
smile  was  boyishly  sweet.  "  I  like  paying  you 
back  the  time  and  patience  and  trouble  and 
affection  you  've  spent  on  me.  If  I  growl,  it 
is  to  hear  myself  talk.  Good-night,  old  boy." 

The  ruling  passion  sent  Denys  into  the  hall 
at  his  protege's  heels. 

"Maurice,  the  wind  is  on  your  side  to-night. 
Don't  open  your  window  at  the  bottom." 

"  Good  Lord! "  growled  Maurice. 


CHAPTER  IV 

TOLNA  GOES  INTO  SOCIETY 

ON  the  next  Sunday  evening,  the  distin 
guished  Tolna  stood  admiring  his  reflec 
tion  in  the  cheval-glass. 

"  For  the  first  time  in  America,"— he  indi 
cated  his  dress-clothes  to  Denys.  "  Does  Mrs. 
Fanning  say  that  on  her  program?  " 

"  Don't  worry.  Every  person  there  under 
stands  that  you  never  have  been  and  never 
will  be  inside  another  New  York  house." 

"  I  hope  Miss  Fanning  appreciates  the 
sacrifice  that  's  offered  on  her  altar." 

"  Perhaps  you  don't  think  that  it  is  a  sacri 
fice  to  break  through  my  isolation  policy? 
Though  it  may  not  turn  out  so  badly,  to  let 
fifty  or  sixty  of  the  best  people  see  you  at 
close  range — just  once.  Twice  would  make 
you  cheap;  once  may  be  good  advertising. 
Anyhow,  I  've  got  to  be  resigned.  She  had 
set  her  heart  on  it.  And  when  a  woman  wants 
her  own  way,  you  might  as  well  compromise." 

55 


56  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

"On  what?" 

"  On  letting  her  have  it." 

Maurice  struck  an  attitude.  "Never! 
Never  give  in  to  'em.  Liberty  or  death!  When 
your  legs  are  shot  away,  fight  upon  your 
stumps.  While  one  predatory  woman  remains 
on  this  soil,  never  lay  down  your  arms ;  never, 
never,  never! " 

"  If  you  don't  lay  down  your  arms,  you  '11 
ruin  the  set  of  your  shirt -bosom." 

Fra^ois  hastened  to  give  the  shirt-bosom 
a  little  pat,  the  white  waistcoat  a  little  tug, 
and  opined  that  garments  could  not  look  more 
perfect.  As  he  spoke,  Maurice  addressed  him 
in  a  stage  whisper : 

*  To-night  he  plans  death  for  me.  But  my 
eye  is  on  his  every  movement.  I  will  foil  him 
yet.  Do  thou  pray  for  me.  And  get  my  over 
coat." 

"  Maurice,  don't  be  such  an  ass,"  growled 
Denys.  "  That  man  takes  every  word  for 
gospel.  He  will  be  afraid  to  stay  in  the  same 
house  with  me." 

"  That 's  the  fun." 

"  The  first  thing  you  know,  he  will  be  tell 
ing  the  neighbors  that  I  have  designs  on  your 
life." 

"  Very  likely.    When  you  first  hired  him,  I 


TOLNA  GOES  INTO  SOCIETY  57 

complained  that  he  was  stupid.  You  said  you 
chose  a  stupid  one,  so  that  he  would  n't  see 
through  me.  Now  you  know  what  you  Ve 
brought  on  yourself." 

In  the  automobile,  Denys  demanded  with 
an  abruptness  that  masked  some  hesitation : 

"  How  do  you  like  Miss  Fanning?  " 

He  had  not  mentioned  her  name  since 
Friday,  a  reticence  from  which  Maurice  drew 
his  own  conclusions. 

While  she  had  been  only  a  name  to 
him,  only  the  girl  whom,  for  the  last  month, 
Denys  had  stolen  away  to  Lakewood  to 
visit  over  Sundays,  Maurice  had  found 
all  a  school-boy's  joy  in  chaffing  his 
friend  about  her;  but  to-night  he  answered 
seriously : 

"  I  thought  her  very  pretty  and  sweet." 

Denys  expanded.  "  They  're  the  nicest 
people  in  New  York.  So  simple  and  well- 
bred.  And  really  musical.  Not  of  the  sham- 
artistic  tribe.  I  value  the  mother  dearly  for 
my  dead  mother's  sake—" 

"  And  the  daughter  for  her  own."  But 
this  mild  statement  was  all  the  commentary 
Maurice  allowed  himself.  "  I  dare  say  the 
mother  is  all  your  fancy  paints  her,  too,  even 
if  she  did  discuss  me  to  my  face,  as  if  I  were 


58  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

a  child  or  a  servant,  not  supposed  to  have  any 
feelings." 

"  But,  my  dear  fellow,  I  tell  everybody  that 
you  don't  understand  a  word  of  English." 

"  Then  it  was  all  the  ruder." 

"  But  she  complimented  you." 

"  Oh,  of  course.  If  she  had  said,  *  This 
seems  to  me  a  very  commonplace  young  man, 
with  nothing  about  him  to  make  a  fuss  over,' 
I  should  have  asked  her  to  be  mine." 

"  Oh,  well,  Maurice,  while  you  're  inhaling 
incense  with  every  breath  you  draw,  it  's  a 
very  good  pose  to  say  that  you  don't  like 
the  odor.  You  'd  be  mighty  forlorn  without 
it,  let  me  tell  you.  As  Morris  Fordham, 
broker's  clerk,  you  would  n't  find  life  worth 
living." 

"  If  I  thought  that  was  true,  I  'd  put  a 
bullet  through  my  head  now.  If  I  thought 
that  all  I  live  for  is  the  adulation  of  a  lot  of 
idle  people  who  don't  know  the  sham  from  the 
real-" 

"  You  live  for  Art." 

"Hang  Art!" 

"  Chut!  "  said  Denys,  as  he  usually  did  at 
this  stage  of  their  conversations. 

Presently  he  pursued  his  reflections  aloud: 
"  Fortunately  Mrs.  Fanning  does  n't  train 


TOLNA  GOES  INTO  SOCIETY  59 

with  a  crowd  that  pretends  to  know  anything. 
They  're  not  chromo-musical,  thank  heaven! 
They  won't  want  to  talk  shop.  They  will  be 
perfectly  delighted  to  meet  you,  and  Mrs. 
Norton  Burnham  will  ask  you  to  sit  in  her 
opera-box  on  Wednesday  night.  And  you  '11 
thank  her  but  be  obliged  to  decline,  because 
you  sing  the  leading  role  yourself.  And 
she  '11  say:  'Oh,  how  funny!  I  hadn't 
noticed.'  " 

"  Denys,  they  '11  know  I  'm  American." 
"  Not  if  you  remember  to  speak  no  English 
and  as  little  as  possible  of  anything  else.    I  '11 
be  at  your  elbows  to  do  the  talking.    It  's  my 
aim  to  make  yours  a  thinking  part." 

COMING  down  from  their  third-story  dress 
ing-room,  Denys  clutched  Maurice's  arm. 

'  There  's  that  sulky  Hammond  girl.  Jove! 
she  's  lovely,  though." 

She  was  waiting  in  the  hall,  in  a  yellow 
frock  that  matched  her  hair,  a  long  amber 
chain  falling  from  her  white  throat  to  her 
knees.  Her  eyes,  upturned  to  the  two  men, 
were  dark  as  pools  in  a  fir  forest.  Denys  ran 
down  to  ask  her : 

"  Where  did  you  leave  the  Dragon-ship?  " 

She  bestowed  on  him  a  glance  which  said 


60  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

that  she  did  not  know  what  he  meant,  nor  care. 
He  was  undismayed. 

"  Don't  tell  me  that  you  live  in  New  York, 
for  I  know  that  you  have  just  sailed  hither 
from  Markland,  with  Leif  the  Lucky.  Don't 
tell  me  what  your  name  is,  for  I  know  per 
fectly  well  that  it  's  Sigrid  the  Haughty." 

She  spoke  now  in  the  level,  colorless  voice 
that  made  her  words  sound  as  if  she  were  re 
peating  a  part  learned  by  rote : 

"  That  is  prettier  than  '  that  sulky  Ham 
mond  girl.' '  Her  eyes  on  her  victim,  she  did 
not  note  Maurice's  unmannerly  stare. 

Denys,  though  startled,  was  by  no  means 
silenced. 

"  Jolly  good  discipline  you  maintain  on  the 
Dragon-ship.  What  happens  to  a  rower  who 
displeases  you? " 

"  I  was  never  displeased  on  the  Dragon- 
ship." 

'  You  were  never  called  sulky?  " 

"  I  never  was  sulky." 

"Oh,  no  wonder  Leif  was  named  the 
Lucky!" 

All  good-humor  now,  Denys  made  amends 
to  her  by  presenting  the  Celebrity. 

She  bowed  without  speaking,  almost  with 
out  looking  at  the  singer,  who  murmured 


TOLNA  GOES  INTO  SOCIETY  61 

something  in  a  low  voice,  of  which  fc  charme  " 
was  the  only  word  audible.  At  this  moment 
Mrs.  Hammond  sailed  out  of  the  dressing- 
room.  She  greeted  Monsieur  Tolna  with  a 
stately  hand  and  excellent  French. 

"  Monsieur,  this  is  indeed  a  pleasure,  actu 
ally  to  converse  with  him  whom  one  has  so 
long  looked  upon  as  a  dear  friend.  Have 
you  ever  reflected,  monsieur,  that  perhaps 
your  truest  friends,  the  friends  who  respond 
to  you  most  perfectly,  whose  souls  are  in  the 
deepest  accord  with  your  soul,  are  those  whose 
names,  even,  you  do  not  know,  whose  faces 
you  never  see,  who  sit  in  the  darkness  on  the 
far  side  of  the  dazzling  foot-lights  that  irradi 
ate  you,  who  attempt  no  brilliancy  of  their 
own,  but  are  content  to  feel  their  triumph  in 
your  triumph,  to  believe  that  they  also  serve 
who  simply  listen  and — " 

"  Applaud,"  prompted  Denys.  "  That 
is  how  audiences  serve,  Mrs.  Hammond. 
Maurus  quite  appreciates  their  value."  The 
"  dear  friend  "  said  nothing.  His  eyes  had 
scarcely  moved  from  Honor's  face. 

The  girl  met  his  stare  with  no  more  re 
sponse,  either  of  pleasure  or  offense,  than  if 
she  had  been  a  waxen  beauty  in  a  hair 
dresser's  window ;  presently  suggesting  in  her 


62  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

curious  toneless  voice,  "  Suppose  we  go  down 
stairs,  mother?  " 

Mrs.  Hammond  hesitated.  She  was  enjoy 
ing  the  situation  greatly,  but  more  guests 
were  passing  up  to  the  dressing-room,  and  the 
delightful  little  interview  must  soon  be 
disturbed.  To  descend  the  stairs  with  the 
Celebrity  in  tow  was  a  triumph  not  to  be 
jeopardized.  Her  smile  kindly  promised  to 
shelter  the  shyness  of  the  two  young  men 
under  her  wing. 

"  Shall  we  go  down,  messieurs?  " 

Denys,  afraid  to  invite  too  continuous  a 
scrutiny,  was.  about  to  offer  excuses,  when 
suddenly  the  tenor,  with  his  deepest,  most 
foreign  bow,  offered  the  lady  his  arm. 

"  Your  mother  has  made  a  ten-strike," 
Denys  confided  to  Miss  Hammond,  as  inti 
mately  as  if  they  had  not  just  been  at  daggers 
drawn.  "  I  never  saw  him  so  polite  before." 

"  Is  he  as  spoiled  as  all  the  rest  of  them?  " 

"  He  is  n't  spoiled  at  all.  On  the  contrary, 
compliments  make  him  dreadfully  embar 
rassed  and  unhappy." 

"  Perhaps   he   thought   that   mother   was 


sincere." 


"  Dear  Miss  Hammond,  it  's  the  sincerity 
that  makes  the  weariness  of  it." 


TOLNA  GOES  INTO  SOCIETY  63 

"  Yes,  it  must  seem  a  sad  lot  to  a  man  to 
fascinate  every  woman  he  meets." 

"  Oh,  one  must  pay  for  eminence!  Empe 
rors  risk  assassination.  Maurus  risks  being 
killed  by  kindness." 

"  At  least,  he  won't  risk  being  wearied  by 


me." 


She  had  not  been  disagreeable  for  several 
minutes,  and  her  beauty  was  a  keen  delight  to 
him.  He  answered  warmly,  "  As  if  any  man 
could  be  wearied  by  you,  Miss  Hammond!" 

She  stopped, — they  were  just  at  the  draw 
ing-room  door  and  the  butler  had  cried  their 
names  into  the  room, — the  color  rising  in  her 
cheeks,  her  eyes,  which  he  had  decided  were 
hazel,  a  clear  black.  She  looked  a  different 
and  a  younger  girl. 

"  How  could  you  think  I  meant  that?  How 
could  you  suppose  I  was  bragging?  I  meant 
that  I  should  n't  force  my  admiration  on  him." 

"Of  course  not,"  Denys  answered  absently, 
noting  how  handsome  she  looked  when  angry. 
"  I  am  afraid  we  are  blocking  the  doorway, 
Miss  Hammond.  Shall  we  go  in?  " 

Nothing  could  have  been  better  timed  for 
Mrs.  Hammond  than  her  daughter's  unex 
pected  pause.  Sweeping  into  the  room  on 
Maurice's  arm,  the  ever-watchful  Argus  no- 


64  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

where  to  be  seen,  appearances  certainly 
justified  her  proud,  proprietary  air.  Margery 
did  not  conceal  her  stupefaction,  and  Mrs. 
Fanning  asked  involuntarily: 

"  But  how  long  have  you  known  Monsieur 
Tolna? " 

It  was  an  unhandsome  question,  especially 
with  Mrs.  Burnham  standing  by.  For  that 
lady's  grievance  against  the  Fannings  had 
quite  vanished  when  she  was  asked  to  receive 
with  them  on  this  unique  occasion.  As  Mrs. 
Hammond  hesitated,  Maurice  answered  for 
her. 

"  We  are  very  old  friends,  Madame  Ham 
mond  and  I.  In  fact,  so  old,  that  I  feared  to 
find  myself  forgotten." 

Given  a  lead  over,  Mrs.  Hammond  did  not 
lack  courage  for  the  fence. 

"  Oh,  not  at  all,  monsieur.  How  could  I 
forget?  He  is  n't  changed  a  bit,  Mrs.  Fan 
ning,  for  all  his  fame.  He  is  just  the  same 
simple,  unspoiled  boy  that  he  used  to  be." 

"  Hard  lines  for  you,  Alice,  that  she  knows 
Monsieur  Tolna  so  well,"  smiled  Mrs. 
Burnham,  with  her  cheerful  habit  of  putting 
into  words  what  everybody  else  might  think 
but  nobody  else  would  say.  '  You  were  crow 
ing,  you  and  Madge,  over  being  the  first 


TOLNA  GOES  INTO  SOCIETY  65 

white  women  to  shake  hands  with  him. 
Rather  spoils  the  fun,  does  n't  it,  to  find  that 
Mrs.  Hammond  knew  him  in  knickerbock 
ers?  " 

If  Margery's  fun  was  spoiled,  no  one  was 
the  wiser. 

"  But  no,"  she  answered  quickly,  "  we  con 
gratulate  ourselves  that  it  is  in  our  house 
Monsieur  Tolna  meets  an  old  friend.  How 
do  you  do,  Miss  Hammond?  " 

The  two  girls  looked  at  each  other,  each  a 
little  taken  aback.  They  were  dressed  in  pre 
cisely  the  same  shade  of  yellow. 

"How  clinkin'  you  look!  Honor,"  Mrs. 
Burnham  cried.  "  But  then  you  'd  look 
clinkin'  in  a  potato-sack.  On  my  word,  your 
dress  and  Margy's  are  cut  off  the  same  piece. 
I  say,  Madge,  are  n't  the  Hammond  family 
playing  trumps  to-night?  " 

Annoying  as  it  was  to  Margery, — it  would, 
she  felt,  have  exasperated  any  girl  living  to 
see  the  effect  of  her  carefully  studied  gown 
spoiled  by  the  appearance  of  its  double  on  a 
more  beautiful  wearer, — it  was  far  more  an 
noying  that  Mrs.  Burnham  should  remark  on 
her  discomposure.  Suddenly  she  perceived 
that  Miss  Hammond,  far  from  triumphing, 
was  more  confused  than  herself.  Her 


66  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

haughty  head  was  drooping,  her  cold  cheeks 
were  aflame.  Margery  rose  to  the  occasion. 

"  I  am  so  pleased  to  find  my  taste  confirmed 
by  Miss  Hammond's,"  she  answered,  without 
perceptible  pause.  "  Otway  scoffed  at  me; 
she  said  that  nobody  was  wearing  yellow  this 
winter.  Miss  Hammond,  you  must  stand  here 
and  receive  with  us.  Everybody  will  think  we 
arranged  our  frocks  on  purpose  for  that." 

Honor,  neither  speaking  nor  moving, 
looked  at  her,  wide-eyed. 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  must."  Margery  caught 
her  hand  and  drew  her  into  the  line  with  Mrs. 
Fanning  and  Mrs.  Burnham. 

As  Mrs.  Hammond  claimed  a  word  with 
her  daughter,  the  singer  bent  over  Margery 
to  say  in  French,  "  Mademoiselle,  how  that 
was  prettily  done  of  you!  " 

'  Why,  did  you  understand  what  was 
said?"  ' 

"  The  dumb-show,"  he  protested.  "  That 
something  was  said  to  embarrass  Mademoi 
selle  Hammond,  and  that  you  saved  the  situa 
tion.  I  thank  you." 

"  You  thank  me?  "  she  repeated  with  mean 
ing,  but  the  confusion  she  expected  did  not 
follow.  Meeting  her  look,  his  smiling  eyes 
seemed  to  say:  "I  see  that  you  observe  my 


TOLNA  GOES  INTO  SOCIETY  67 

warm  interest  in  this  young  lady.  Yes,  I  am 
interested  in  her,  and  I  am  not  in  the  least 
embarrassed  about  it."  The  eyes  seemed  to 
claim  her  sympathy  so  confidently  that  Mar 
gery  found  herself  giving  him  an  answering 
smile  of  perfect  understanding.  Then  she 
turned,  to  draw  Honor  into  their  conversation. 
She  had  never  particularly  liked  the  girl.  No 
one  particularly  liked  Miss  Hammond.  But 
now,  all  in  a  moment,  Margery  was  her  ardent 
champion.  Undaunted  by  the  beauty's  ex 
treme  apathy  concerning  the  Celebrity, 
Margery  beamed  encouragement  upon  him 
and  chatted  for  all  three. 

"  Maurus,"  Denys  broke  in,  with  an  abrupt 
ness  positively  rude,  "  I  particularly  want  to 
present  you  to  Mrs.  Norton  Burnham." 

"  Oh,  do  you  feel  that  you  have  to,  Mr. 
Alden?"  that  irrepressible  lady  inquired. 
"  Could  n't  you  leave  me  out  in  the  cold  again? 
You  see,  you  've  explained,  already,  that  he  's 
a  hermit,  never  meets  people— only  two  or 
three  hundred  of  Alice's  friends,  at  a  scratch 
party,  with  only  a  day's  notice,  just  because 
she  wants  to  show  him  off.  Oh,  well,  if  you 
insist  on  my  knowing  him — Monsieur  Tolna, 
je  suis  charmee  de  vous  voir.  Je  vous  dit 
droit  maintenant  que  je  parle  Fran9ais 


68  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

comme  le  diable,  mais  si  vous  etes  tres  intelli 
gent,  peut-etre  vous  me  suiverez.  Les  lan- 
gues  ne  sont  pas  mon  couleur  long." 

"  Long  color?  "  Maurice  meditated.  "  Oh, 
long  suit.  Well,  if  I  can't  match  you  at  this 
kind  of  French,  my  lady,  at  any  rate  I  '11  be 
an  easy  second." 

"  Oh,  madame,  je  suis  Hongrois.  Je  parle 
Fran£ais  comme  trentes  centimes.  Je  gage 
que  votre  Fra^ais  peut  donner  au  mien  des 
cartes  et  des  piques." 

She  looked  blank,  not  recognizing  the  Jessie 
Burnham  idiom  in  a  Hungarian  mouth. 

"  C'est  Grecque  a  moi,  mais  n'importe.  Le 
point,  monsieur,  est  ceci:  Voulez-vous  avoir 
le  bonte  d'attendre— d'assister,  je  veux  dire— 
chez  Monsieur  Willoughby  Smith,  le  vingt- 
huitieme  Fevrier,  a  neuf  heures?  C'est  son 
Sing  Sing  diner." 

"  After  all,"  again  meditated  her  interlocu 
tor,  "  I  seem  to  be  behind  on  the  slang  of 
the  day.  Mais,  madame,  vous-etes  trop  nom- 
breuse  pour  moi.  Quoi,  par  la  Grande  Cuil- 
lere  de  Corne,  veut  dire  un  Sing  Sing  diner?  " 

"  Oh,  autrefois  il  n'y  avait  jamais  un  tel," 
Mrs.  Nortie  bubbled  with  joy.  "  Le  diner  de 
Willie  sera  absolument  le  premier — absolu- 
ment  unique,  en  effet."  She  showed  a  guile- 


TOLNA  GOES  INTO  SOCIETY  69 

less  pleasure  at  the  truly  French  sound  of  this 
sentence.  "  II  faut  que  vous  vous  habilez 
comme  un  prisonnier." 

"  L'Homme  au  Masque  de  Fer,  ou  Mon 
sieur  Bonnivard?  " 

"  Oh,  non,  non,  pas  du  tout.  Mais  en  verite 
cela  serait  un  bon  stunt,  monsieur.  Prison- 
niers  fameux  de  tous  les  siecles — par  exemple, 
Jonah  dans  Festomac  de  la  baleine!  Merci 
bien  pour  la  suggestion! — Chez  Monsieur 
Smith,  il  fait  qu'on  se  habillera  comme  un 
fo^at,  a  raies,  et  qu'on  s'exercera  le  pas  de 
Foie.  Comprenez-vous  ?  " 

"  C'est  clair  comme  le  boue.  Comme  je 
trouve  beau,  madame,  la  mode  intrepide  dont 
vous  maniez  sans  gants  la  langue  Fran9aise." 

"  Je  crois  que  vous  me  tirez  la  jambe,"  Mrs. 
Norton  responded,  quite  without  offense. 
'  Tenez,  dites-moi  si  vous  viendriez  diner 
avec  Monsieur  Smith?  " 

"  Est-ce  qu'un  canard  nagera?  " 

Mrs.  Nortie  smiled  comprehension  of  his 
tone  at  least. 

"  Vous  viendriez? " 

"  Mais  oui,  sur  et  certain." 

"  Bon  ouvrage,"  she  said  heartily,  giving 
him  a  grip  of  her  firm,  square  hand.  "  Mr. 
Alden,  I  Ve  trapped  your  shy  bird.  He  's 


70  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

promised,  on  his  sacred  honor,  to  come  to 
Willie's  dinner." 

Denys  bestowed  on  her  a  kindly,  troubled 
smile. 

"  Then  I  sincerely  hope  that  he  will." 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"  Only  that  years  of  familiarity  with  the 
artistic  temperament  make  me  reluctant  to 
predict  what  Maurus  will  or  will  not  do." 

"  You  mean  he  won't  come?  After  prom 
ising  me? " 

Denys  smiled.  "  Ah,  I  decline  to  prophesy 
about  the  artistic  temperament.  You  can't 
even  depend  on  their  breaking  their  prom 


ises." 


Mrs.  Nortie  wheeled  on  Maurice.  "  Mon 
sieur,  il  dit  que  vous  me  vendez  une  brique 
d'or.  II  dit  que  vous-etes  menteur  et  man- 
queur  de  promesses.  Mais  je  ne  le  crois  pas." 

"  Et  je  dit  a  mon  tour  qu'il  est  vilain  et 
taquin." 

She  looked  steadily  at  Maurice,  her  blue 
eyes,  so  pretty  and  so  shallow,  quite  grave 
with  anxiety.  "  Je  vous  crois,"  she  said  with 
emphasis,  and  turned  on  her  persecutor. 
"  Look  here,  Denys  Alden,  this  is  the  second 
time  you  've  tried  to  put  a  spoke  in  my  wheel. 
The  other  night  there  was  n't  an  earthly  rea- 


TOLNA  GOES  INTO  SOCIETY  71 

son  why  you  should  n't  have  taken  me  behind 
the  scenes.  I  thought  so  at  the  time,  and  now 
I  know  it.  Well,  I  let  it  go ;  life  's  too  short 
to  quarrel.  I  like  peace,  but  I  don't  like  to  lie 
down  and  be  trampled  on.  What  you  've  got 
against  me  I  can't  imagine.  I  Ve  always 
asked  you  to  my  house.  If  I  Ve  ever  been 
rude,  I  don't  know  it.  But  you  spoiled  my 
fun  that  night,  and  now  you  're  trying  it 
again.  I  'm  not  a  little  nobody.  If  you  mean 
to  sauce  me,  my  dear  sir,  you  'd  better  believe 
I  '11  get  back  at  you." 

"  I  can't  think  how  you  so  misunderstand 
me,  Mrs.  Burnham.  I  was  only  trying  to 
save  you  a  possible  disappointment." 

"  Oh,  you  make  me  tired!  "  she  cried. 

"  Cheer  up,  I  'm  going.  I  want  to  present 
Maurus  to  Mrs.  Westerly." 

Mrs.  Westerly  being  Mrs.  Burnham's  espe 
cial  rival,  a  horrible  vision  flashed  upon  her  of 
the  wicked  Alden  haling  Tolna  to  a  Westerly 
dinner  at  least  a  week  before  Willie  Smith's. 
She  saw  that  she  should  have  asked  Tolna 
to  dine  at  her  own  house  at  once.  But  she 
had  not  one  free  evening  for  a  fortnight. 
Well,  some  date  must  be  "chucked  up." 
Whether  to  throw  over  the  Sydney  Wallaces 
or  the  Armstrongs — but  here  she  suddenly 


72  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

woke  to  the  fact  that  the  two  men  were  leav 
ing  her. 

"  Au  plaisir  de  vous  revoir,  madame," 
Maurice  called  over  his  shoulder  as  Denys 
piloted  him  down  the  room.  Opportunity  had 
passed  by  with  forelock  all  unclutched. 

Willie  Smith  hurried  up  to  her  with  anx 
ious  brow  and  voice.  '  Well,  I  saw  you 
talking  to  Tolna.  Got  him?" 

"  I  don't  know  whether  I  've  got  him  or 
not,"  Mrs.  Burnham  returned,  candidly  and 
crossly.  A  laugh  from  Mrs.  Westerly,  which 
she  fancied  to  be  at  her  expense,  inspired  her 
further  remark,  "  I  'm  getting  pretty  sick, 
Willie,  of  being  your  chief  steward." 

'  What  do  you  mean?  Don't  you  want  to 
help  me  with  my  dinner?  "  cried  the  anxious 
Willie. 

"  Upon  my  word,  I  don't  just  see  why  I 
should.  I  Ve  slaved  and  slaved  over  your 
shows.  If  any  little  detail  goes  wrong,  peo 
ple  say  it  's  all  my  fault.  My  lack  of 
tact,  I  suppose.  That  's  what  they  're  al 
ways  exclaiming  about  me, — no  tact.  But 
if  it  goes  right,  it  's  Willoughby  Smith's 


success." 


"  But  everybody  knows  that  you  pull  it  off. 
And  you  enjoy  doing  it.    You  said  Burnham 


TOLNA  GOES  INTO  SOCIETY  73 

would  n't  let  you  give  that  kind  of  show.  He 
is  n't  up  to  date— 

"  He  '11  give  any  kind  of  show  I  please,  if 
he  has  n't  much  use  for  the  little  fool  perform 
ances  that  amuse  you." 

Willie  Smith's  cheek,  leathery  from  much 
automobiling,  showed  a  tinge  of  red  through 
the  tan. 

''  Well,  I  'm  glad  to  hear  your  real  opinion 
of  my  dinner.  I  '11  try  and  relieve  you,  Mrs. 
Burnham,  from  the  duties  of  hostess." 

She  was  cross  enough  to  enjoy  his  ill-tem 
per.  "  I  hope  you  will,  I  'm  sure,"  she 
answered. 

Mr.  Smith  watched  her  a  moment,  then 
walked  straight  to  the  door  of  the  music-room, 
where  Madame  Arnheim  was  singing  the 
"Jewel  Song."  Miss  Hammond,  released 
from  the  receiving  party,  stood  there  by  her 
mother. 

'  You  don't  care  anything  about  this,  do 
you?"  Willie  said  in  Honor's  ear.  "Mrs. 
Fanning  has  got  some  orchids  worth  looking 
at." 

"  Go,  dear;  you  '11  enjoy  it."  Mrs.  Ham 
mond  smiled  benignly  on  the  pair.  "  My 
daughter  is  a  devoted  botanist,  Mr.  Smith. 
She  studied  in  Paris  under  Lasalle." 


74  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

Characteristically,  Honor  had  not  spoken 
at  all.  Her  unmoved  face  showed  no  prefer 
ence  for  going  or  staying.  Her  mother, 
sitting  down  in  the  only  unoccupied  chair, 
abandoned  her  to  Willie  Smith. 

'  Those  children  have  gone  to  look  at  Mrs. 
Farming's  orchids,"  she  informed  the  lady 
next  to  her,  whose  daughter  had  not  just  been 
spoken  to  by  the  most  eligible  bachelor  in  New 
York.  "  Honor  has  a  perfect  passion  for 
flowers.  No  mere  sentimental  admiration  for 
them,  but  a  deep  scientific  knowledge  of  the 
subject.  She  was  Lasalle's  favorite  pupil. 
Mr.  Smith  is  so  interested  in  the  culture  of 
flowers.  They  have  so  much  in  common."  A 
wary  glance  out  of  the  corner  of  her  eye 
showed  her  the  man  and  the  maid  walking 
away  together.  She  settled  back  luxuriously 
in  her  chair.  "  Is  n't  Arnheim  superb?  I  sim 
ply  drink  in  every  note.  I  only  hope  the  peo 
ple  here  t6-night  are  capable  of  appreciating 
her." 

'  They  're  orchids  I  gave  to  Mrs.  Burn- 
ham,"  Willie  was  explaining  to  Honor. 
"  She  had  more  than  she  wanted,  so  she 
handed  some  over  to  Mrs.  Fanning.  I  got  'em 
from  a  fellow  that  had  been  exploring  Central 
America.  He  was  pretty  well  on  his  uppers 


TOLNA  GOES  INTO  SOCIETY  75 

when  I  helped  him  out.  Clever  chap,  you 
know.  Scientific.  But  he  never  '11  make 
money.  So  he  's  going  to  name  the  white 
one  for  me.  Going  to  read  a  paper  at  the 
Natural  History  Museum,  and  tell  'em  about 
it." 

"  They  're  very  fine,  I  suppose,"  Miss 
Hammond  said.  "  I  don't  care  for  flowers." 

"  Well,  I  don't  care  for  orchids  myself. 
There  's  no  odor,  and  you  can't  make  any 
show  with  'em.  Bank  a  hundred,  and  it 
looks  like  six.  But  I  like  to  own  things  just 
because  they  're  rare,  and  I  've  got  an  idea  that 
I  '11  have  every  American  tropical  flower 
represented  in  my  conservatory.  There  's 
a  bully  big  one  in  my  new  house,  and  I 
thought  I  should  like  to  treat  it  differently 
from  the  common  run.  How  does  it  strike 
you?" 

"  It  would  n't  be  any  more  tiresome  than 
most  conservatories." 

After  puzzling  over  this  remark,  he  decided 
that  it  was  a  joke. 

"  Then  I  '11  do  it  if  you  say  so." 

She  glanced  at  him  with  that  sudden  dark 
ening  of  her  eyes  that  betokened  interest  or 
excitement.  Something  in  his  voice—  But 
she  told  herself  she  was  absurd. 


76  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

"  How  do  you  like  your  new  house?  "  she 
said,  in  her  dead  voice. 

"  First-rate.  At  least,  I  shall  when  I  am 
settled.  The  workmen  are  n't  out  yet,  but  I 
knew  they  never  would  be  if  I  did  n't  move  in. 
I  want  you  and  your  mother  to  see  that  house, 
Miss  Hammond.  Won't  you  come  some  day 
soon,  and  have  tea  on  a  trestle?" 

'  You  are  always  so  original  in  your  enter 
tainments,"  she  said. 

"  Let  's  sit  down  a  minute,"  he  suggested, 
with  portentous  gravity. 

No  one  else  had  deserted  Arnheim;  the  con 
servatory  was  theirs.  Honor  sat  down  on  a 
wicker  bench,  where  a  frond  of  fern  brushed 
her  forehead,  and  thought  how  pleasant  the 
wet  touch  felt,  the  while  she  listened  to  Mr. 
Smith's  next  words. 

"  Won't  you  let  me  put  the  deeds  of  that 
house  in  your  name?  "  He  was  close  to  her  on 
the  bench;  instinctively  she  drew  away. 

"  But — but  you  don't  know  me." 

"I  Ve  followed  you  round  everywhere  for 
a  year.  You  must  have  seen  what  I  meant. 
You  don't  know  how  I  admire  you.  It  is  not 
your  looks,  though  a  man  would  be  blind  that 
would  n't  see  them.  It  's  your  manner.  You 
behave  like  a  queen.  You  don't  jolly  people 


TOLNA  GOES  INTO  SOCIETY  77 

or  let  them  get  fresh  with  you.  People  are 
afraid  of  you.  I  give  '  little  fool '  entertain 
ments,  and  you  may  think  I  don't  appreciate 
dignity.  But  I  do.  It  's  the  real  thing.  I 
want  my  wife  to  be  a  queen." 

Miss  Hammond  was  struggling  with  a 
hysterical  desire  to  laugh. 

"  Then  you  don't  want  me  to  come  to  your 
Sing  Sing  dinner  in  stripes  ?  " 

His  brow  wrinkled  with  apology.  "  I  don't 
want  you  to  come  at  all.  I  did  n't  invite  you, 
because  the  others  were  n't  your  crowd.  I 
did  n't  think  you  'd  enjoy  it.  They  're  rowdy, 
that  's  what  they  are — rowdy.  I  'm  going  to 
shake  'em,  if  you  '11  have  me.  You  won't  be 
bothered  by  any  Sing  Sing  dinners  or  Chuck 
Connors  balls.  It 's  silly,  and  I  'm  done  with 
it." 

From  her  retreat  at  the  far  end  of  the 
bench,  she  surveyed  him  critically,  reflecting 
that  she  was  at  least  four  inches  taller  than  he. 
In  appearance  he  was  certainly  insignificant. 
Of  his  mind  she  knew  little,  save  the  report 
that  he  managed  well  the  great  fortune  his 
father  had  made  for  him.  Of  his  ideals  and 
aims  she  had  learned  more  in  the  last  five  min 
utes  than  in  a  year  of  meeting  him  at  dinners 
and  dances,  where  he  had  been  merely  one  of 


78  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

the  well-dressed  supernumeraries  who  com 
pleted  the  stage-picture  of  society.  She  could 
never  have  guessed  that  he  would  promote 
himself  to  a  speaking  part.  Absorbed  in  con 
templation  of  him  in  his  new  aspect  of  human 
being,  she  forgot  her  cue  to  speak. 

"  Are  n't  you  going  to  answer  me?  " 

"  Oh,  did  n't  I?  "  She  still  fought  an  im 
pulse  to  laugh.  "  It  is  '  yes,'  Mr.  Smith." 

She  rose  as  she  spoke,  with  some  vague  idea 
of  escaping  a  caress.  If  she  stood,  he  could 
hardly  kiss  her  without  permission. 

'  That 's  splendid!  "  he  cried,  quite  content. 
"  I  'm  delighted.  Shall  we  go  in  and  an 
nounce  it?  " 

"  To  mother? " 

'  To  everybody.  Half  the  people  we  know 
are  here.  Would  n't  this  be  a  good  time?  " 

"But  my  mother  must  know  first,  and  my 
father,  who  is  n't  here  to-night.  Then  my 
mother  will  announce  it  in  her  own  way,  to 
her  own  friends." 

*  Yes,  you  're  right,"  he  assented,  with  visi 
ble  chagrin.  "  It  would  n't  be  the  correct 
thing  to  announce  it  here.  I  want  to  do  just 
what  you  tell  me.  Say,  are  you  going  to  the 
Anderson  ball?  " 

'  Yes,  we  were  going — " 


TOLNA  GOES  INTO  SOCIETY  79 

"  I  'm  not  asked,  but  if  we  announce  the 
engagement  before  then,  I  could  go  with  you, 
could  n't  I?" 

"  Oh,  there  '11  be  plenty  of  chances  for  you 
to  meet  Mrs.  Anderson,"  Honor  cried.  Her 
fiance  slightly  misread  her  emphasis. 

'  Yes,  I  knew  you  'd  fix  that  for  me.  Say, 
is  there  any  particular  stone  you  prefer? " 

"Any  stone?" 

"  For  the  ring,  I  mean." 

"  I  have  n't  thought  about  it." 

"  Because,  if  you  'd  like  it,  I  want  to  give 
you  the  Rajah's  Rose." 

"  The  what? " 

"  It 's  the  third  largest  pigeon's-blood  ruby 
in  the  world ;  the  largest  in  a  private  collection. 
I  always  meant  it  for  my  wife." 

"  I  shall  like  it  very  much." 

"  I  '11  bring  it  round  right  after  breakfast. 
You  '11  wear  it  right  away,  won't  you  ?  I  wish 
we  could  announce  the  engagement  to-mor 
row.  I  'm  so  proud  of  it,  I  want  every  one  to 
know." 

"  Oh,  I  'm  not  half  as  nice  as  you  think  me. 
I  am  very  disagreeable.  I  don't  make  friends. 
But  I  will  try  to  be  different.  I  will  try  to 
make  other  people  think  as  well  of  me  as  you 
do." 


80  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

"  But  that  's  just  what  I  like  you  for," 
Smith  explained.  "  Because  you  're  not  hail- 
fellow-well-met  with  Tom,  Dick,  and  Harry. 
All  these  other  girls  are  trying  to  butt  in  with 
everybody.  But  you  act  as  if  all  creation 
was  n't  good  enough  to  make  you  look  round. 
That 's  what  I  admire  you  for." 


CHAPTER  V 

MR.    ALDEN    IS   NOT   ALTOGETHER    PLEASED 

FOR  Denys  the  evening  did  not  begin  till 
that  late  hour  when,  all  the  guests  hav 
ing  arrived,  and  the  concert  being  well  under 
way,  he  received  Mrs.  Fanning's  permission 
to  take  Margery  into  the  deserted  library  for 
a  little  rest  before  her  part  of  the  program. 

"  Do  open  the  window  a  moment;  I  need 
oxygen,"  the  girl  bade.  "  Oh,  Mr.  Alden, 
don't  you  think  I  would  better  jump  out  on 
those  inhospitable  flag-stones?  " 

"  You  poor  child!    Are  you  so  tired?  " 

She  sank  back  into  an  easy-chair  with  a 
deep  sigh. 

"  Yes,  tired;  but  worse— scared.  In  what 
moment  of  folly  did  I  undertake  to  play 
to-night?" 

"  It  is  too  much  to  stand  up  shaking  hands 
for  two  hours,  and  then  play,"  Denys  >  as 
serted,  in  deep  concern.  "  May  n't  I  get  you 
some  wine,  or  something?  " 

<i  81 


82  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

"Oh,  no;  it  is  n't  that  sort  of  collapse. 
I  am  simply  overcome  with  a  sense  of  my 
own  conceit  in  attempting  to  play  Hun 
garian  airs  before  Monsieur  Tolna.  What  an 
imbecile!" 

"  But  my  dear — Miss  Fanning,"  Denys 
protested  warmly,  "that  's  the  thing  of  all 
others  to  please  him.  Wonderful  musician 
though  he  is,  he  does  n't  play  himself, — or 
thinks  he  does  n't,— and  he  loves  to  be  played 
to.  Of  course,  Hungarian  airs — why,  your 
choice  was  inspired!  " 

"But  to  murder  his  gipsy-music!"  Mar 
gery  cried  tragically,  fluttering  in  aimless 
nervousness  about  the  room.  "Of  course  I 
meant  to  pay  him  a  particular  compliment, 
but  when  he  hears  me  he  '11  think  it  a  particu 
lar  affront." 

"My  dearest  girl— " 

Margery  paused  to  look  about  the  room  and 
then  at  Denys,  in  elaborately  dramatized 
surprise. 

"  Are  you  soliloquizing,  Mr.  Alden?  " 

"  I  must  have  been,  Miss  Fanning.  As  you 
kindly  point  out,  I  could  not  possibly  have 
been  addressing  that  stately  young  lady,  Miss 
Fanning.  Though  why,  my  dear  Miss  Fan 
ning,  I  should  be  forced  to  call  you  Miss 


MR.  ALDEN  IS  NOT  PLEASED  83 

Fanning,  when  your  mother  lets  me  call  her 
Aunt-" 

'  You  have  known  my  mother — how  many 
years?  You  two  had  an  old  friendship  when 
you  first  met  me.  We  began  at  the  begin 
ning." 

"  May  I  hope  to  have  the  honor  of  winning 
your — friendship?  " 

"  It  is  not  hard  to  win,  Mr.  Alden;  but 
neither  is  it  to  be  taken  for  granted.  I  do  like 
you,  of  course,"  she  reassured  him;  "  but  sup 
pose  I  had  n't?  You  would  have  begun  by 
calling  me  Margery." 

"Is  that  libellous?" 

"  Worse — lese-majeste" 

It  was  always  delightful  to  Denys  to  see 
Margery  unbend  from  icy  dignity  to  a  jest. 
He  loved  her  very  scorn  and  floutings  for  the 
sake  of  that  moment  when  the  twinkle  of  fun 
danced  into  her  violet  eyes  and,  for  no  dis 
cernible  reason,  her  whole  mood  changed. 
Though  her  transparency  often  made  her 
mother  uncomfortable,  Margery  regarded 
herself  as  a  paragon  of  artfulness.  Nor  could 
her  lover,  with  his  merely  masculine  percep 
tions,  ever  understand  why  he  was  alternately 
welcomed  as  Denys  and  repelled  as  Mr. 
Alden.  Her  real  sentiments  were  a  riddle  to 


84  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

him.  He  only  knew  that  she  had  frowned  and 
now  she  smiled.  And  he  basked  contented  in 
the  smile. 

"  But  my  dear— Miss  Fanning,  I  don't 
want  to  call  you  Margery.  I  want  to  call 
you—  Well,  never  mind.  But  I  see  that  I 
must  tell  you  again  what  I  've  told  you  before 
—that  you  have  real  musical  genius.  There 
fore,  of  course,  you  play  unequally.  But  you 
could  n't  play  badly  to  save  your  life." 

The  girl's  face  was  all  care  again. 

"  I  can  to-night.  Mr.  Alden,  honestly,  I 
feel  as  if  I  'd  rather  jump  out  on  those  stones 
than  get  up  on  that  platform." 

"  Good!  Your  type  will  always  do  its  best 
just  after  it  threatens  its  worst." 

"  Oh,  I  am  going  to  play.  I  won't  be  a 
coward.  But  poor  Monsieur  Tolna  will  suf 
fer  tortures." 

"  Poor  Monsieur  Tolna  will  have  the  great 
est  pleasure  that  has  fallen  to  him  since  he 
crossed  the  ocean." 

Her  face  softened  again,  her  eyes  grew 
dreamy. 

"  Mr.  Alden,  if  I  could  give  him  plea 
sure!  That  is  my  only  justification.  I 
thought  of  how  much  pleasure  he  scatters 
right  and  left,  of  how  much  happiness  he  has 


MR.  ALDEN  IS  NOT  PLEASED  85 

given  me,  and  I  wanted  to  do  something  just 
for  him.  I  ought  to  have  known  I  could  n't." 

"  You  can." 

"  No,  I  am  like  Icarus :  I  attempt  too  fine  a 
flight."  She  was  silent  a  moment,  to  continue 
in  another  voice,  half  dreamy,  half  eager: 
"And  yet,  what  a  chance  to  do  what  nobody 
ever  dreamed  I  could!  Tolna!  Not  only  the 
prince  of  artists,  but  the  prince  of  men.  The 
beauty  of  his  voice  and  the  beauty  of  his  life ! 
His  talents,  and  the  consecration  of  them  to 
liberty  and  justice.  Denys,  a  clod  ought  to 
break  into  music  before  Tolna.  A  musician 
might  be  happy  to  play  for  him,  and  die!  " 

She  was  speaking  to  herself  rather  than  to 
him,  in  an  enthusiasm  too  absorbing  for  any 
self -consciousness.  Theoretically,  Denys  knew 
that  he  should  have  been  delighted  at  this  high 
tribute  to  the  success  of  his  invention.  Actu 
ally,  he  felt,  for  the  first  time,  qualms  of  con 
science  and  almost  of  regret.  That  the  dear 
public  should  accept  an  imaginary  being  was 
an  exquisite  jest.  That  Margery  should  be 
deceived  suddenly  revolted  him'.  He  said  to 
himself  that  when  he  built  up  the  Tolna  myth, 
he  had  not  expected  her  to  take  it  so  seriously. 
It  would  have  been  truer  to  admit  that  he 
had  not  then  expected  to  take  her  so  seriously. 


86  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

While  he  pondered  in  silence  this  new  aspect 
of  his  perfidy,  she  spoke  again,  more  quietly, 
somewhat  chilled  by  his  strange  unresponsive- 
ness. 

"Do  I  rhapsodize?  But  you,  of  all  men, 
ought  to  understand.  For  I  know  of  your 
Tolna  only  what  you  have  told  me,  admire 
what  you  have  showed  me  to  admire.  He  is 
the  only  man  I  ever  saw  who  was  somehow 
apart  from  the  hurly-burly,  the  common  frets 
of  life.  All  the  rest  of  us  live  for  the  little 
incidents  of  a  day,  but  he  lives  for  a  principle. 
One  feels  as  if  he  were  truth  and  justice  and 
high  ideals  personified." 

Denys  began  to  be  frightened.  Visions  of 
a  dreadful  possibility  put  an  edge  to  his 
tongue. 

"A  sort  of  walking  allegory?  After  all, 
Miss  Fanning,  you  must  remember  that  he  is 
not  an  apotheosis.  He  is  just  a  man." 

For  an  instant  she  was  amazed  that  he  could 
speak  thus  of  the  idol  whose  worship  she  had 
learned  from  him.  Then  she  thought  she 
understood,  and  her  eyes  danced. 

1  Yes,  I  am  glad  to  remember  that. — Here 
is  Hyacinth  to  say  that  they  are  ready  for  our 
number.  Can  you  believe  that  she  is  really 
Jessie  Burnham's  sister? " 


MR  ALDEN  IS  NOT  PLEASED  87 

The  appearance  of  Miss  Hyacinth  Law 
rence,  who  had  long  since  renounced  the 
unsymbolic  name  of  Ellen,  given  her  by  her 
sponsors  in  baptism,  was  not  an  interruption 
to  be  overlooked.  Her  red  hair  was  dressed 
a  la  Pompadour,  in  a  manner  to  amaze  King 
Louis's  fair  friend.  Mounting  from  her  eye 
brows,  it  rolled  up  to  skyey  regions.  Flame- 
colored  masses  concealed  her  ears.  More 
flame-colored  masses  fell  into  a  huge  loose 
knot  between  her  shoulders.  Her  dress  was 
of  black  crepe,  its  short  waist  and  clinging 
skirt  First-Empire-Greek,  while  Early- 
Italian  winged  sleeves  trailed  on  the  floor, 
even  when  the  lady  was  standing.  Her  orna 
ments  were  a  scarab  ring  and  a  necklace  of 
cinnamon-colored  stones,  recognized  by  the 
learned  as  hyacinths.  Her  large  eyes  were 
tragic  in  their  intensity,  her  voice  was  rich, 
her  speech  slow  and  cadenced  almost  as  if  she 
intoned. 

"  Darling,  Herr  Hoffmann  has  almost 
finished.  Do  you  feel  the  influences  to  be 
right?  " 

Margery  answered  with  a  smile  and  a  cock 
of  the  head  more  for  Denys  than  for  Hya 
cinth. 

"  There  is  only  one  influence,  and  that  is 


88  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

perfect.  I  am  going  to  make  you  all  thrill 
to-night— I  'm  going  to  play  for  Tolna." 

A  note  in  her  voice  thrilled  them,  now, 
with  confidence  in  her  success.  The  man, 
ashamed  of  himself,  felt  his  heart  grow  heavy. 

"  Darling,"  Miss  Hyacinth  resumed  (there 
was  to  Denys  something  out  of  joint  in  a 
world  where  Hyacinth,  and  not  he,  might  so 
address  Margery)  — "  darling,  let  me  put  my 
ring  on  your  finger.  It  is  an  amulet.  Wear 
ing  it,  you  can't  fail." 

"  Keep  it  for  yourself,  dear.  In  the  bright 
lexicon  of  Margery — "  that  young  lady  gaily 
defied  the  fates.  '*  Wait  for  me,  Hyacinth, 
till  I  get  my  fiddle.  Mr.  Alden,  Hyacinth  is 
a  better  musician  than  I  am.  You  can  talk 
shop  to  her." 

Despite  his  always  careful  courtesy, 
Denys's  perturbation  tied  his  tongue.  Quite 
unembarrassed  by  the  silence,  Miss  Lawrence 
stood  still  as  a  statue,  her  eyes  fixed  on  vac 
ancy.  When  at  last  she  spoke,  it  was  in  fault 
less  German. 

"  I  wish  from  my  soul  that  I  could  speak 
the  tongue  of  Hungary.  Only  by  knowing 
the  language  like  one's  own,  the  people  like 
one's  neighbors,  can  one  interpret  a  nation's 
music.  To  play  for  Monsieur  Tolna—" 


MR.  ALDEN  IS  NOT  PLEASED  89 

Denys  was  not  in  the  mood  for  more  rhap 
sodies  about  his  Frankenstein's  monster. 

*  You  are  not  consistent,  Miss  Lawrence," 
— he  tried  to  touch  a  lighter  key.  "  You  are 
speaking  German,  but  don't  tell  me  that  frock 
owes  its  being  to  the  Kaiserin's  modiste." 

Hyacinth  glanced  over  her  costume  with 
some  complacency. 

"  No ;  it  was  put  together  in  Paris.  But  the 
design,  Mr.  Alden,  is  entirely  my  own." 

"  So  I  should  have  guessed.  Then,  Miss 
Lawrence,  why  not  the  language  of  Doucet — 
and  Maeterlinck? " 

"Maeterlinck?"  Miss  Lawrence  repeated 
vaguely,  as  if  the  name  hardly  conveyed  a 
meaning  to  her.  "  That  was  last  winter." 

"And  now  he  has  gone  with  the  snows  and 
the  sleeves  of  yester-year?  " 

Her  gravity  was  impenetrable. 

"  I  have  the  Vedas  now  on  my  night-stand. 
They  are  an  ever-present  help  when  one  suf 
fers." 

Denys  regarded  her  with  sad  surprise. 
"  Miss  Lawrence,  I  am  disappointed.  That 
is  not  worthy  of  you." 

She  straightened,  her  green  eyes  blazing. 

"Mr.  Alden,  I  am  most  disappointed  in 
you.  Are  you  so  ignorant,  so  Philistine,  that 


90  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

you  despise  the  great  books  of  the  East  be 
cause,  forsooth,  you  are  pleased  to  call  them 
heathen?  " 

Denys's  face  shone  with  mischief.  "Par 
don!  You  misunderstand,"  he  pleaded  in  his 
most  innocent  manner.  "  I  never  employ  the 
cant  word  '  heathen.'  Why  should  enlight 
ened  minds  attach  more  sacredness  to  the  He 
brew  prophets  than  to  Buddha?  Both  interest 
the  judicial  scholar.  But  even  if  I  discrim 
inated  between  them,  never  could  I  assail  the 
cherished  beliefs  of  a  devout  agnostic." 

"  I  was  sure  you  were  n't  a  Philistine.  But, 
then,  why  are  you  disappointed  in  me?  " 

"  That  you  look  for  help  when  you  suffer. 
How,  except  by  suffering,  can  one's  soul  be 
liberated?" 

She  pondered  this  question,  holding 
Denys's  solemn  gaze. 

"  Ah,  you,  too,  believe  that  one  should  court 
suffering?  " 

"  One  should  seek  it  out,  plunge  one's  self 
on  its  cruel  bosom,  as  Arnold  von  Winkelried 
on  the  German  spears." 

"  Suppose,"  said  Margery  from  the  door 
way,  "  we  plunge  ourselves  on  the  cruel  criti 
cism  of  the  audience?" 

"  I  must  show  the  men  how  to  turn  the 


MR.  ALDEN  IS  NOT  PLEASED  91 

piano,"  Hyacinth  exclaimed,  a  sudden  swoop 
from  the  infinite  to  the  practical  carrying  her 
swiftly  down  the  passage. 

"  How  insufferable  of  you  to  guy  her  so," 
Miss  Fanning  reproached  him. 

"  I  do  it  for  her  own  good.  It  is  my  con 
viction  that  that  girl  is  n't  half  such  a  fool  as 
she  acts.  It  is  the  ambition  of  my  life  to 
break  up  her  gravity.  I  have  vowed  a  vow  to 
out-nonsense  her  own  nonsense  till  I  disgust 
her  into  sense." 

'  You  '11  stop  scoffing  when  you  hear  her 
play.  She  is  great,"  Margery  cried,  with 
an  intense  look  borrowed  from  Hyacinth. 
"  Wait  till  we  show  you  what  we  can  do  for 
Monsieur  Tolna." 

With  an  anxious  heart  under  his  immacu 
late  shirt-front,  Denys  went  to  seek  the  singer, 
who,  like  a  good  child,  was  just  where  he  had 
been  left,  exchanging  labored  German  sen 
tences  with  Judge  Foster. 

"  Will  you  not  give  me  the  benefit  of  your 
intimate  knowledge  of  the  Magyar  people, 
Monsieur  Tolna? "  inquired  that  eminent 
publicist.  *  What,  in  your  judgment,  is  the 
real  sentiment  of  the  dwellers  in  the  remotest 
provinces  toward  the  existing  Austrian  head 
ship?" 


92  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

"  It  is  high  time  to  interfere,"  thought 
Denys,  maker  of  pedigrees,  as  he  courteously 
apologized  for  bearing  his  friend  away.  "  But 
I  owe  you  the  real  apology,  Maurice,"  he 
added,  piloting  the  singer  out  of  the  drawing- 
room  and  down  a  little  empty  passage,  "  for 
leaving  you  stranded  with  that  old  bore." 

"  He  was  n't  a  bore  at  all,  Denys.  He  is  a 
most  well-informed,  high-minded  old  gentle 
man,  anxious  to  pay  homage  to  the  glories  of 
my  country.  If  I  were  the  real  thing,  and  not 
a  pretending  ass,  I  should  fall  on  his  neck." 

'  While,  as  it  is,  your  conscience  mows  at 
you  because,  for  the  best  of  reasons,  I  have 
been  forced  to  edit  your  early  biography," 
Denys  jeered,  all  the  more  sharply  that  his 
own  conscience  "  mowed,"  as  he  said. 
"  Sonny,  you  disgust  me.  You  are  losing 
your  sense  of  humor." 

Opening  a  narrow  door,  he  signed  Maurice 
through.  They  found  themselves  in  the 
crowded  music-room,  in  the  space  between  the 
platform  and  the  first  row  of  chairs.  The 
private  door  being  concealed  in  the  wall-pan 
eling,  their  sudden  conspicuousness  was  so 
startling  that  all  eyes  turned  on  them.  Denys, 
blandly  unconscious,  looked  only  at  the 
embowered  platform,  where  Margery  stood 


MR.  ALDEN  IS  NOT  PLEASED  93 

waiting,  violin  on  shoulder,  while  Hya 
cinth  trailed  her  sable  skirts  up  the  steps. 
"  Maurus,"  he  said,  quite  audibly  to  those 
nearest,  "  I  must  present  you  to  Miss  Law 


rence." 


But  Hyacinth  had  taken  her  seat,  and 
Denys  dropped  back,  with  a  gesture  of 
apology. 

'  Too  late.  We  must  not  move  now;  they 
are  beginning." 

He  looked  quite  properly  mortified  that 
they  had  obtruded  themselves  at  the  wrong 
moment,  while  he  felt  a  boyish  delight  at  the 
success  of  the  ruse  which,  apparently  without 
premeditation,  had  made  his  Adonis  the 
observed  of  all  observers.  The  situation  was 
further  embellished  by  Maurice's  beautiful 
unconsciousness  both  of  the  manoeuver  and  of 
the  audience.  For  him,  nothing  seemed  to 
exist  but  the  music.  The  exalted  Tolna  of 
Denys's  imagination  could  have  behaved  no 
better. 

And  now  the  rustling  and  whispering 
guests  fell  silent  as  the  wild  dance-measures 
filled  the  room.  Somber  piano  and  fantastic 
violin  were  one.  To  the  listeners  came  un 
familiar  visions — of  moonlight  shimmering 
on  forest  pools ;  of  vast  starry  spaces ;  of  wait- 


94  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

ing  plains  and  beckoning  hills,  where  life 
meant  living— a  sense  of  self  outpassed;  of 
love  counting  the  world  well  lost;  of  rapture 
trembling  into  pain  unbearable;  and,  beating 
through  all,  revealing  all,  the  merciless  gaiety 
of  the  air.  Tears  dimmed  the  eyes  of  the 
younger  women.  Stout  matrons  straightened 
their  burdened  shoulders,  following  with  their 
fans  the  sweep  of  the  melody.  Weary  men 
of  business  picked  up  a  sudden  courage  for 
to-morrow's  struggle.  Even  old  Colonel  Clay, 
reputed  never  to  be  wholly  awake  except  at 
meals  or  cards,  nodded  his  blond  head  in  time, 
his  far-away  gaze  fixed  on  the  Christmas 
dances  in  the  gallery  of  the  "  big  house  "  in 
Carolina,  long  ago. 

On  the  final  notes  there  followed  such  a 
storm  of  applause  as  is  seldom  heard  from  the 
sleek  and  sleepy  after-dinner  audience,  too 
comfortably  settled  in  the  music-rooms  of  the 
rich.  The  girls  came  forward,  Hyacinth  still 
in  Hungary,  Margery's  brilliant  face  turned 
on  Tolna.  Eyebrows  lifted,  her  eyes  asked 
the  question  which  his  smile  answered  as  he 
led  the  clapping.  Then,  as  if  the  permission 
of  the  Master  had  been  sought  and  given,  she 
accepted  her  tribute  by  curtsey  after  curtsey. 

It  was  the  second  silent  understanding  that 


MR.  ALDEN  IS  NOT  PLEASED  95 

Denys  had  noted  between  the  two.  As  a  dis 
creet  stage-manager,  much  too  wise  to  overdo 
an  effect,  he  had  intended,  as  soon  as  the 
Hungarian  number  was  over,  to  return  Tolna 
to  obscurity.  But  now  his  craft  was  forgotten 
as  he  became  the  prey  of  his  own  forebodings. 
At  his  side  stood  Maurice,  equally  still  and 
absorbed.  Looking  over  the  audience  in  a 
pause  of  the  music,  he  had  discovered  Honor 
Hammond.  She,  seated  between  her  mother 
and  her  fiance,  was  no  more  conscious  of  the 
singer's  eyes  upon  her  than  was  he  of  the 
hundreds  of  eyes  upon  him.  But  more  than 
one  of  her  neighbors  followed  that  strange 
gaze  direct  to  her  face. 

It  was,  of  course,  Mrs.  Burnham  who 
spoke. 

"  Honor,  you  Ve  made  a  conquest.  Tolna 
has  looked  at  you  without  moving  a  muscle 
for  seventeen  minutes." 

Honor  glanced  up.  With  a  murmured 
"Pardon!  "  as  if  she  could  hear  it,  Maurice 
dropped  his  eyes  to  the  floor  and  kept  them 
there. 

"  If  he  must  n't  look  at  you,  he  won't  look 
at  anybody,"  Mrs.  Nortie  commented. 
"  He  '11  keep  your  image  undisturbed." 

Without  waiting  for  a  reply,  and  without  a 


96  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

suspicion  that  Willie  Smith's  baleful  glare 
reflected  proprietary  rights,  she  hastened  to 
make  peace  with  that  scowling  young  gentle 
man.  "  If  he  's  still  angry  with  me,  he  has  n't 
found  any  one  to  fill  my  place,"  she  medi 
tated,  comfortably.  "  Willie,"  she  called, 
"  I  '11  play.  It  's  all  right  about  the  twenty- 
eighth." 

Willie  answered  with  equal  distinctness : 

"  There  ain't  going  to  be  any  core  to  this 
apple." 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"  Dinner  's  off." 

Turning  liis  shoulders  ostentatiously  upon 
her,  he  plunged  into  conversation  with  Miss 
Hammond.  Mrs.  Burnham  felt  her  world 
crashing  about  her  ears.  But  no  one  could 
have  guessed  it  from  the  gay  impertinence  of 
her  reply: 

"  You  're  cutting  a  wide  swath,  to-night, 
Honor.  Which  of  'em  is  it,  Beauty  or  the 
Beast?" 

For  Denys  the  best  efforts  of  the  famous 
Gerausch,  of  the  divine  Arnheim,  had  no 
charm.  He  could  not  have  told  what  they 
were  singing,  but  he  knew  that  they  were  an 
unconscionable  time  about  it.  He  wanted  to 
get  Maurice  away,  but  reinforcements  of  un- 


MR.  ALDEN  IS  NOT  PLEASED  9? 

interesting  persons  kept  coming  up  to  take 
possession  of  him.  Finally,  in  spite  of  his 
intention,  he  and  his  charge  still  lingered 
when  the  half-dozen  long-delaying,  intimate 
friends  grouped  themselves,  among  scattered 
programs  and  folded  camp-chairs,  to  talk  the 
evening  over.  While  his  eyes  followed  Mau 
rice  and  Margery  into  the  recess  of  the  bay- 
window,  he  yet  heard  an  automatic  tongue— 
possibly  his  own — saying: 

'  You  see,  Tolna  had  n't  heard  those  airs 
since  he  fled  from  Tolna  Castle.  I  have  told 
you  how  his  father  was  assassinated  by 
Austrian  agents.  Though  it  can't  be  proved, 
of  course,  there  is  no  doubt  in  the  world  that 
the  Emperor  was  privy  to  the  murder.  The 
only  warning  that  the  count  had  was  brought 
to  him,  at  the  risk  of  his  own  life,  by  a  blind 
fiddler  playing  under  the  window.  He  was 
brave  to  rashness,  like  his  son  after  him,  and 
he  chose  to  defy  the  warning.  Well,  the  boy 
tells  me  that  that  mazurka  of  Miss  Fanning's 
was  the  very  air  the  beggar  played  that  night ; 
and  he,  a  little  toddler,  was  held  up  in  his 
mother's  arms  to  see  the  queer  fiddler.  You 
may  imagine  what  memories  she  has  quick 
ened." 

"  They  are  talking  like  old  friends,"  Mrs. 


98  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

Fanning  smiled,  meaning  to  please  him. 
Denys  jumped  up  and  strode  across  the  room 
to  claim  Maurice. 

"  Mademoiselle,"  the  singer  had  been  say 
ing  in  his  Englishy  French,  "  you  do  not  want 
my  poor  compliment.  It  is  your  reward  to 
know  how  well  you  played.  You  saw  how  you 
held  the  room." 

She  smiled  up  at  him. 

"  I  am  a  fraud,  monsieur.  To-night  I 
played  much  better  than  I  can." 

Again  each  felt  that  mutual  understanding 
which  the  length  of  their  acquaintance  cer 
tainly  did  not  warrant. 

"Because  you  are  happy?"  Maurice  said, 
and  she  nodded. 

"  Yes,  that  is  why." 

The  words  were  hardly  spoken  when  the 
intimacy  that  they  implied  struck  her  with 
surprise. 

"  Monsieur  Tolna,  you  are  very  different 
from  my  thought  of  you." 

His  knowledge  made  him  smile. 

"  How,  mademoiselle?  " 

"  Monsieur,  I  fancied  you — how  shall  I 
say?— somewhat  austere.  I  knew  the  motive 
of  your  life—" 

The  Hungarian  patriot  looked  like  a  chick- 


MR.  ALDEN  IS  NOT  PLEASED  99 

en-thief.  In  a  voice  stern  from  embarrass 
ment,  "  Please  never  speak  of  that,"  he  bade. 

Margery  flushed  at  the  sudden  sharpness 
of  his  tone. 

"  Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon!  I  should  have 
known  that  there  are  some  subjects  too  sacred 
for  a  stranger —  Oh,  I  am  distressed!  " 

He  writhed  the  more. 

"  It  is  nothing,  mademoiselle.  Pray  forget 
it.  Never  speak  of  it  again." 

"  Ah,  monsieur,  I  was  right,  at  first,  to 
think  you  austere." 

At  this  Maurice  was  forced  to  laugh. 

"A  thousand  pardons,  mademoiselle. 
Speak  of  anything  in  the  world  you  please." 

This  somewhat  sweeping  permission  Denys 
was  in  time  to  overhear.  Rather  in  the  man 
ner  of  a  schoolmaster  to  a  naughty  child,  he 
ordered  Tolna  to  make  his  adieux  to  Mrs. 
Fanning.  Margery  could  not  be  blind  to  the 
rudeness,  but  all  she  said  was: 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Alden,  I  have  never  met  anybody 
like  Monsieur  Tolna.  I  thought  that  he 
would  be  remote,  cold;  but,  instead,  he  is  so 
human,  so  sympathetic.  He  is  wonderful. 
One  feels  that  though  one  admires  him  as  a 
star,  one  might  make  him  a  friend.  Oh,  he  is 
perfection!  That  is  the  only  thing  to  say." 


CHAPTER  VI 

A   BETROTHAL   A   LA    MODE 

carriage  door  was  barely  shut  before 
JL    Mrs.  Hammond  turned  to  Honor. 

"I  have  never  seen  Willoughby  Smith  so 
single  out  a  girl." 

1  You  make  me  think  of  Mrs.  Bennet,  mo 
ther." 

"  Mrs.  Bennet? "  her  mother  repeated,  won 
dering  whether  Mrs.  Bennet's  daughter  was  a 
favorite  of  Willoughby  Smith. 

"  In  '  Pride  and  Prejudice.' " 

Mrs.  Hammond  remembered  enough  of  her 
Jane  Austen  to  recognize  this  comparison  as 
most  impertinent  and  offensive. 

"  I  suppose  you  mean  deliberately  to  be 
rude,  Honor.  You  usually  do." 

*  Yes,  I  am  horrid,"  the  girl  admitted,  with 
out  penitence,  but  without  defiance,  as  one 
who  mentions  an  irremediable  fact.  "Don't 
let  us  quarrel  to-night,  though,  mother.  I 
have  been  a  good  girl  for  once.  I  have  ac 
cepted  Willoughby  Smith." 

100 


A  BETROTHAL  A  LA  MODE  101 

"  Honor!  "  Mrs.  Hammond  cried  in  an  aw 
ful  voice — a  voice  that  said  "if  this  were  a 
joke-" 

"  It  is  true.  He  asked  me,  when  we  went 
into  the  conservatory.  He  said  he  wanted  to 
forsake  all  his  Sing  Sing  dinner  companions 
and  cleave  only  to  me.  He  is  coming  round, 
to-morrow  morning,  to  see  you  and  father  and 
bring  me  the  ring." 

"Honor!"  Mrs.  Hammond  cried  again, 
brokenly. 

"  I  think  he  means  business,"  Honor's  level 
voice  went  on.  "  He  seemed  to  be  in  earnest 
— and  he  was  perfectly  sober.  I  don't  see  that 
he  can  get  away  now.  Why,  mother!  " 

Mrs.  Hammond,  burying  her  face  in  her 
chiffon  muff,  had  burst  into  a  tempest  of 
tears. 

Honor  looked  almost  as  stupefied  as  her 
mother  had  looked  a  moment  ago.  She  said 
nothing  for  a  while,  evidently  expecting  the 
sobs  to  cease.  Finally  she  asked  with  embar 
rassment  : 

"  Mother,  are  n't  you  pleased? " 

The  tears  rained  on,  and  Honor  found  her 
self  thinking,  "  Mother  must  be  upset,  or  she 
would  never  ruin  her  party  muff."  Sud 
denly,  with  an  impulse  that  surprised  herself, 


102  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

she  flung  her  arm  round  her  mother  and  drew 
down  the  wet  face  to  her  shoulder.  Mrs. 
Hammond  caught  her  daughter  in  both  arms 
to  lavish  kisses  on  her  cheek. 

"Honor,  my  dear,  dear  girl!  I  am  so 
happy!" 

Almost  against  her  will  the  "dear  girl" 
felt  her  own  tears  rise.  Her  chief  emotion 
was  bewilderment. 

"  It  is  what  I  hoped  for,  and  longed  for, 
and  prayed  for,"  Mrs.  Hammond  said  in  a 
fervent  voice.  "  It  is  what  I  brought  you  up 
for.  But  I  have  thought  that  you  would  miss 
it." 

"  So  have  I,"  Honor  answered,  cold  again. 

'  Your  father  never  was  in  sympathy  with 
me  about  your  education.  He  wanted  you  to 
go  to  school  here.  But  I  saw,  ten  years  ago, 
what  you  would  be.  I  knew  that  you  could 
have  the  most  brilliant  life,  and  I  made  up  my 
mind  to  fit  you  for  it.  I  don't  care  what  Ed 
gar  says,  you  can't  get  the  cachet  here." 

"Then  you  brought  me  back  with  the 
cachet,  and  nobody  seemed  to  like  the  brand." 

"Nobody  is  good  enough  for  you!"  Mrs. 
Hammond  cried  hotly.  "When  I  look  over 
the  men  we  meet,  I  could  cry  to  think  that 
any  one  of  them  should  have  my  beautiful 


A  BETROTHAL  A  LA  MODE  103 

daughter.  I  wanted  a  reigning  prince  for 
you.  It  was  hard  to  confess  to  myself  that 
that  was  beyond  you.  But  Willoughby 
Smith  can  give  you  a  princess's  position." 

"  It  is  good  to  accomplish  the  end  you  were 
made  for,"  the  girl  reflected  aloud.  "  I  sup 
pose  Lou  Dillon  feels  the  same  way." 

"  Lou  Dillon  ?    Who  is  she  ? " 

"  The  queen  of  the  trotting-track." 

"The  queen — oh,  a  horse!  I  must  say, 
Honor,  I  think  that 's  very  coarse." 

"  I  know  I  'm  disagreeable,  mother  dear.  I 
always  am — everybody  says  so.  But  truly,  I 
am  very  happy  that  you  are  pleased." 

The  ready  tears  gushed  again. 

"  My  dear,  I  hope  and  know  that  you  '11  be 
very,  very  happy." 

The  carriage  stopped.  Honor  opened  the 
door  herself,  for  the  Hammonds,  unlike  most 
of  their  acquaintances,  kept  but  one  man  for 
their  modest  brougham. 

"  There  is  a  light  in  the  work-room.  If  you 
don't  mind,  mother,  I  'd  like  to  tell  father  my 
self." 

A  glance  at  her  tear-stained  face  in  the 
hall  mirror  procured  Mrs.  Hammond's  acqui 
escence.  Usually  she  did  not  approve  of 
family  conclaves  behind  her  back. 


104  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

While  her  mother  climbed  the  stairs,  Honor 
waited  below  to  put  out  the  gas.  She  was  not 
anxious  to  hear  further  rejoicings,  but  Mrs. 
Hammond  waylaid  her  in  the  upper  hall. 

"My  dear,  dear  child,  I  am  so  happy!" 

"  I  am  glad,  mother,  that  you  're  pleased." 

The  deadness  of  the  girl's  voice,  heard  for 
the  thousandth  time,  struck  Mrs.  Hammond's 
ear  for  the  first  time. 

'  Why,  Honor,  are  n't  you  pleased?  " 

Her  daughter  spoke  with  quiet  force. 

"  Indeed  I  am.  I  am  very  happy  to  have 
my  own  home." 

"  For  whom  has  this  house  been  conducted, 
if  not  for  you?" 

"  I  did  n't  mean  that,  mother.  I  know  that 
you  have  done  everything  for  me.  I  only 
meant — I  shall  like  my  married  dignity." 

"  And  it  is  a  dignity  worthy  of  you,  thank 
God!  You  don't  know  how  happy  you  have 
made  me,  my  dearest.  You  can't  appreciate 
a  mother's  feelings  till  you  are  a  mother  your 
self." 

"I  wonder  if  that  is  true,"  the  girl  said, 
climbing  the  next  flight  without  a  good-night. 

THE  Hammond  house  stood  in  Ninth  Street, 
a  red  brick,  iron-railinged,  green-doored  sur- 


A  BETROTHAL  A  LA  MODE  105 

vival  of  the  'fifties.  Mrs.  Hammond,  born 
Van  Winkle,  stuck  to  the  Washington 
Square  neighborhood  and  claimed  for  herself 
a  leadership  in  that  shadowy  body,  the  Knick 
erbocker  set.  Only  the  newest  comers  of  the 
other  set — the  set  that  really  matters — felt 
any  awe  of  pedigree,  but  all  of  them  consid 
ered  it  a  sign  of  good-breeding  to  assume  a 
little.  On  the  whole,  the  meerschaumed  an 
cestors  were  a  valuable  asset,  and  so  were  the 
lady's  literary  affiliations  and  her  husband's 
artistic  ones.  Society  was  rather  proud  of 
her  cleverness,  and  glad  to  meet  in  her  pretty 
house  the  latest  wandering  decadent  from 
France,  or  the  most  popular  of  young  ac 
tresses.  And  when  the  descendant  of  the  an 
cestors  in  turn  produced  a  descendant  so 
beautiful  that  her  name  became  a  household 
word  wherever,  from  Maine  to  California, 
New  York  society  news  is  telegraphed,  Mrs. 
Hammond  became  a  personage  to  be  eagerly 
welcomed  at  all  sorts  of  expensive  entertain 
ments,  even  though  her  hosts  knew  that  she 
could  never  repay  the  obligation. 

The  stairs  Honor  climbed  were  painted 
white.  White  spindles  supported  the  mahog 
any  rail.  The  carpet  was  colonial  blue,  the 
wall-paper  colonial  buff,  thickly  hung  with 


106  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

good  old  prints  and  etchings.  The  whole  in 
terior  was  charming  in  its  quiet  good  taste, 
its  air  of  old-fashioned  simplicity. 

"  Mrs.  Burnham's  house  and  most  of  the 
others  look  like  hotels,"  Honor  thought. 
"  This  looks  like  a  home — and  is  n't.  My  new 
house  will  look  the  most  hotel-like  of  all — and 
perhaps  it  will  be  a  home." 

She  opened  her  father's  door  without 
knocking.  The  startled  face  which  he  turned 
to  her  showed  that  this  unceremonious  en 
trance  was  no  easy,  daughterly  habit.  She 
hesitated  just  within  the  threshold. 

"I  beg  pardon.  May  I  come  in,  if  you 
are  n't  busy? " 

"  Of  course  you  may." 

Sweeping  some  papers  out  of  sight,  he  rose 
to  take  her  cloak.  Hammond  was  a  tall  man, 
still  showing  where  Honor  got  her  lithe 
grace,  her  thick  blonde  hair.  The  two  sur 
veyed  each  other's  looks  with  equal  approval. 

"What  a  lovely  girl  I  have!"  At  her 
shrug  he  added,  "  I  suppose  they  bore  you, 
telling  you  that  all  the  time." 

"  Yes.  But  I  might  find  it  more  boring  if 
they  did  n't.  I— sit  down,  father,  please.  I 
have  something  to  say  to  you." 

He  sat  down  beyond  his  drawing-table,  ap 
prehension  in  his  eye. 


A  BETROTHAL  A  LA  MODE  107 

"  Did  your  mother  send  you  up?  " 

"  No;  it  is  n't  to  say  that  we  can't  keep  our 
position  without  a  footman,  or  that  mother 
and  I  must  have  a  month  at  Palm  Beach.  It 
is  n't  money  at  all — or,  yes,  I  suppose  we  shall 
want  money.  But  it  is  for  investment  this 
time.  I  'm  to  be  married." 

She  winced  to  see  such  quick  pleasure — or 
was  it  relief? — shine  in  her  father's  face.  He 
cried  at  once : 

"  I  congratulate  you! " 

"  Thanks." 

"Or  shall,  when  you  have  told  me  the 
man's  name.  But  I  hardly  need  to  know  that 
first.  I  have  so  much  confidence  in  your  good 
judgment,  Honor." 

That  was  a  pretty  speech,  she  thought. 
She  could  find  no  fault.  Yet  it  hurt  her  that 
he  looked  so  pleased. 

"It  is  Willoughby  Smith." 

"Willoughby  Smith!" 

"  It  's  true.  I  am  really  to  marry  all  those 
millions." 

He  looked  at  her  in  silence  awhile. 

"  I  think  I  am  rather  overcome,  pussy." 

"  So  am  I,  dad.    It 's  dazzling." 

"That  's  the  word— dazzling!  All  those 
millions.  Is  it  beside  the  point,  Honor,  to  ask 
you  whether  you— like— him?" 


108  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

She  pondered  a  moment,  as  if  she  had  not 
considered  this  aspect  of  the  matter. 

"Yes,  you  see  I  do,  because  he  seemed  to 
like  me,  to  think  that  everything  I  did  was 
right.  I  should  be  happy  to  believe  that  he 
does  really  like  me — that  it  was  n't  just  be 
cause  Jessie  Burnham  heckled  him." 

"Oh,  there  's  nothing  wrong  there,"  her 
father  interposed  quickly.  "  I  never  heard 
any  scandal  about  Willoughby  Smith." 

"  Neither  have  I.  And  what  New  York 
girls  don't  hear  is  n't  worth  hearing.  No, 
Willoughby  is  just— silly." 

That  it  was  unbecoming  to  speak  in  this 
way  of  her  future  husband  did  not  occur  to 
her.  But  though  the  last  thing  he  wanted  was 
to  disturb  the  match,  her  father  could  not  re 
frain  from  saying  distastefully: 

'  You  don't  mind  marrying  a  man  you 
think  silly?" 

"  It  does  n't  matter,  does  it?  I  get  the  po 
sition  and  he  gets  me  for  the  position.  We 
shall  both  be  polite  and  nice  to  each  other,  be 
cause  we  are  both  pleased." 

'You  are  honest,  at  any  rate.  I  am  not 
sure  that  such  honesty  is  quite — decent." 

"  Mother  just  said  I  was  coarse.  But,  after 
all  the  well-sounding  humbug  that  you  and  I 


A  BETROTHAL  A  LA  MODE  109 

listen  to,  I  should  think  you  would  find  me  a 
relief.  Ah,  you  don't,  though.  You  think  if 
a  thing  is  n't  lovely,  the  policy  should  be  to 
say  and  say  and  say  that  it  is." 

"  Speech  was  given  to  man  to  conceal  his 
thoughts.  That  was  in  order  that  the  world 
might  be  a  bearable  place  to  live  in.  Self- 
control  is  civilization's  gain  over  the  cave- 
dwellers." 

"  Then  you  think  that  if  we  spoke  what  we 
feel  we  should  show  ourselves  just  as  barbar 
ous  as  the  cave-dwellers?" 

"  I  am  tempted  to  fancy  that  there  has  n't 
been  much  improvement.  Let  us  hear  what 
you  'd  say  if  you  spoke  all  you  think." 

"  I  should  say — "  abruptly  she  checked  her 
self.  Rising,  she  swept  up  and  down  the 
room,  then  dropped  into  her  chair  again  with 
a  half -laugh. 

"No;  you  are  right.  There  's  no  use  in 
saying  it,  now." 

'  Yes,  say  it.  My  daughter  is  such  a  stran 
ger  to  me.  Let  me  look  into  your  soul,  dear." 

"Ah,  it  's  too  late  now,"  she  said,  with  a 
fleeting  smile.  "It  is  like  a  post-mortem  at 
whist.  What  is  the  use  when  the  hand  is 
played?" 

Her  father's  voice  was  very  serious. 


110  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

"  Honor,  you  and  I  have  never  had  a  good 
talk  since  you  came  home.  We  certainly 
never  shall,  after  you  are  married  and  leave 
me.  So  to-night—  ?" 

His  voice  was  tender — it  would  have  been 
easy  to  confess  to  him.  But  she  was  bringing 
no  confessions,  only  accusations.  His  ten 
derness  did  not  smooth  the  way  for  them. 
With  a  brusqueness  that  was  embarrassment 
she  answered: 

"Very  well,  then.  It  is  this.  You  don't 
like  the  sort  of  girl  I  am.  Well,  you  might 
have  made  me  diif  erent." 

He  was  hurt  and  angered,  as  she  had  ex 
pected. 

"  My  dear,  I  have  as  many  shortcomings  as 
most  men ;  but  if  there  is  one  duty  I  have  tried 
to  fulfil,  it  is  my  duty  to  my  daughter." 

"  You  have  certainly  toiled  for  her,  father. 
But  mother  said  to-night — you  are  so  tender 
of  appearances  that  I  never  knew  it  before — 
she  said  that  you  did  n't  approve  of  my  being 
educated  abroad." 

"  I  felt  rather  strongly  that  you  should  go 
to  school  in  the  country  in  which  you  live. 
Surely  you  are  not  resenting  that  old  preju 
dice  of  mine?  I  gave  in." 

"  Yes,  you  gave  in  to  mother  because  you 


A  BETROTHAL  A  LA  MODE  111 

wanted  peace,  and  because  it  would  n't  be 
chivalrous  to  deny  your  wife  anything  she  had 
set  her  heart  on.  But  if  you  had  stuck  it  out 
where  you  felt  you  were  right,  mother  would 
have  respected  you  for  it  and  probably  loved 
you  more.  And  I  should  have  been  a  great 
deal  happier." 

"  You  think  all  those  years  abroad  a  mis 
take?" 

"  I  think  so.  But  I  may  be  wrong.  Per 
haps  the  trouble  is  in  me  and  the  bringing  up 
would  have  made  no  difference.  But  I  have 
always  thought  the  trouble  was  that  I  was  too 
long  away.  I  could  n't  get  hold  anywhere 
when  I  came  back." 

"  Your  mother  had  a  great  many  good  ar 
guments — quite  as  good  as  mine.  If  you  had 
been  a  boy  I  should  have  insisted  on  my  way. 
But  I  thought  she  ought  to  know  what  was 
best  for  a  girl.  Besides,  it  seemed,  as  you  say, 
unchi  valrous — ' ' 

"Yes;  you  thought  that  if  you  could  n't 
take  the  trouble  to  love  her,  you  could  make 
it  up  to  her  by  giving  her  her  own  way  in 
everything." 

Mr.  Hammond  felt  as  if  a  ball  of  lightning 
had  burst  in  the  room. 

"  I  have  always  loved  your  mother,"  he  de- 


THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

fended  himself,  too  resentful  to  remember  to 
tell  Honor  that  this  was  no  topic  for  her. 

"  She  says  that  yours  was  a  frantic  love- 
match." 

"  That  is  true." 

"Is  it?  I  did  n't  know — mother  colors 
everything  so.  But  since  I  can  remember  you 
have  never  seemed  very  fond  of  each  other." 

"  Can  you  remember  ever  hearing  us 
bicker?  If  you  can,  tell  me.  Tell  me  when  I 
have  failed  to  be  kind." 

"  You  are  always  kind.  That  is  just  it.  I 
should  n't  mind  if  you  threw  plates  at  each 
other — and  were  sorry  afterward." 

"You  are  rather  barbarous." 

'Yes,  I  suppose  it  is  rather  barbarous,  a 
girl  saying  that  her  parents  don't  love  each 
other.  But  this  is  an  hour  apart,  father.  We 
have  got  all  the  decorous  veils  off,  for  once. 
To-morrow  we  shall  be  just  as  we  have  always 
been,  and  this  shall  be  a  dream.  But  to-night 
I  'm  taking  the  stand  in  my  own  defense. 
You  think  it  is  shocking  that  I  am  marrying 
for  money.  I  wonder  that  I  can  ever  under 
stand  that  point  of  view,  brought  up  as  I  have 
been.  But  I  do,  and  I  say  in  answer  that 
you  and  mother  married  for  love." 

"  This  is  what  we  men  call  hitting  below  the 
belt,  Honor.  But  let  us  have  it  out  now." 


A  BETROTHAL  A  LA  MODE  113 

The  girl  went  on  as  if  he  had  not  spoken. 

"  They  don't  pretend  in  France.  Here  we 
do  just  as  they  do,  but  we  must  pretend  other 
wise.  It  makes  the  situation  so  cumbrous  and 
complicated." 

An  instant's  pause ;  then  the  level  voice  con 
tinued.  She  was  thinking  aloud  rather  than 
talking  to  him. 

"  I  don't  know  just  where  you  and  mother 
slipped  up,  but  as  long  as  I  can  remember 
you  never  did  anything  together.  You  were 
very  busy.  I  suppose  you  could  n't  go  about 
much  with  mother.  She  was  running  patri 
otic  societies  and  literary  clubs,  though  she  's 
rather  ashamed  of  it  when  you  remind  her  of 
it  now.  Anyway,  she  tired  of  them  after  a 
while,  and  then  the  bee  buzzed  in  her  bonnet 
of  going  to  live  abroad  so  as  to  educate  me 
under  the  best  influences.  She  said — and  I  'm 
sure  she  believed — that  it  was  her  duty  to  be 
near  me  during  my  formative  years.  But  she 
was  really  bored  at  home." 

"And  what  do  you  suggest  that  I  should 
have  done?  Kept  her  at  home  to  be  bored?  " 

"  Told  her  you  could  n't  get  along  without 
her.  Then  she  would  n't  have  been  bored." 

Honor  suddenly  rose,  throwing  wide  her 
arms  as  if  to  sweep  away  webs  of  misunder 
standing. 


114  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

"  Oh,  can't  you  see  what  we  women  want? 
You  lavish  everything  in  the  world  on  us  ex 
cept  just  yourselves.  You  are  too  busy  to 
play  with  us,  and  so  you  give  us  all  sorts  of 
expensive  and  beautiful  toys — houses  and 
clothes  and  travel.  And  of  course  we  get 
tired  of  it  all.  Children  always  get  tired  of 
toys  and  want  new  ones.  And  so  we  get 
the  reputation — and  deserve  it — of  being 
the  most  restless,  extravagant  women  in  the 
world.  But  I  don't  think  we  are  the  happiest, 
dad." 

"What  makes  us  so  busy,  Honor?  It  is 
trying  to  give  our  womenkind  everything 
that  Smith,  next  door,  gives  his  womenkind." 

'Yes,  I  know.  You  are  busy  because 
we  're  frivolous,  and  we  are  frivolous  because 
you  're  busy." 

"Where  do  you  propose  to  start  your  re 
form?" 

"  I  don't  propose  to  start  it  at  all.  I  don't 
see  what  anybody  can  do  about  it.  You  and 
mother  are  just  like  all  the  other  girls'  fathers 
and  mothers.  You  never  see  her  without 
dreading  that  she  '11  ask  you  to  do  something 
you  don't  want  to  do  and  ought  not  to  do  but 
will  end  by  doing.  And  mother  thinks  you  a 
selfish  obstructionist  who  has  n't  the  real  in- 


A  BETROTHAL  A  LA  MODE  115 

terests  of  the  family  at  heart. — I  can't  see 
that  I  am  doing  so  badly  to  take  Willie 
Smith." 

Since  he  had  made  her  speak,  he  would  not 
stop  her.  She  went  on  after  a  moment  in  the 
lighter  tone  he  liked  no  better  than  her  vehe 
mence. 

"  Mother  will  tell  everybody  that  we  are  in 
fatuated  with  each  other.  '  I  believe  the  child 
never  once  remembered  that  fortune.'  Mo 
ther  rather  overdoes  it  at  times." 

"  And  shall  you  go  about  proclaiming  that 
you  are  marrying  him  for  his  money? " 

"  I  shall  say  nothing  at  all.  But  of  course 
they  will  all  think  that,  and  I  'm  very  glad  to 
have  them." 

Her  father  looked  at  her  as  if  he  was  not 
sure  whether  she  were  really  a  human  girl. 
She  went  on : 

"  I  have  been  bred  up  to  marry  money,  just 
as  if  I  had  been  a  horse  bred  up  to  trot,  though 
of  course  mother  thought  me  coarse  when  I 
said  so.  Then,  when  I  win  my  stakes,  which 
everybody  knows  I  am  after,  why  have  to  talk 
about '  even  as  Isaac  and  Rebecca '  ?  I  declare, 
I  should  want  a  civil  ceremony,  not  a  church 
service  at  all,  only  that  nobody  supposes  for 
a  moment  that  the  church  service  means  any- 


116  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

thing.  '  Till  death  us  do  part!'  And  half  the 
people  that  say  it  are  divorced." 

Hammond  came  over  to  her,  laying  his 
hand  on  her  shoulder  and  saying  in  his  ca 
ressing  voice: 

"  My  dear,  you  are  not  happy." 

She  shook  off  the  hand. 

"  I  shall  be  happier  than  I  have  been  in  this 
house.  There  is  nothing  real  here— nothing 
that  you  can  count  on  as  true.  You  are  not 
so  .  bad  as  mother  in  public.  You  don't 
make  a  fool  of  yourself  and  me.  But  I  think 
you  are  worse,  really;  for  mother  almost  be 
lieves  her  pretenses.  You  don't.  She  thinks 
that  her  aims  are  noble  and  right.  But  you 
have  n't  any  aims." 

"  I  don't  have  time.  It  is  all  that  I  can  do 
to  scrape  together  money  for  my  wife's 


aims." 


"  Ah,  you  call  me  barbarous,  but  I  say  no 
thing  so  hard  of  you  as  you  say  of  yourself, 
father.  You  confess  that  you  have  n't  any 
aims;  you  just  slave  your  life  out  to  gratify 
mother's — which  you  don't  believe  in." 

'  You  will  understand  better  when  you  are 
older,  Honor." 

"It  is  only  the  young  that  know  anything, 
father.  When  you  have  spent  fifty  years  tell- 


A  BETROTHAL  A  LA  MODE  117 

ing  yourself  and  hearing  other  people  tell  you 
that  black  is  white  you  get  to  think  it  's  all 
a  dirty  gray." 

Hammond  laughed  with  less  of  bitterness 
than  his  tone  had  held  a  moment  ago. 

"  I  am  afraid  that  I  Ve  reached  that  stage, 
daughter,  where  I  no  longer  fling  out  at  any 
thing.  What  is  the  use?  It  is  much  of  a 
muchness.  Let  us  change  the  topic  from  my 
failure  to  your  success." 

"  You  will  admit  that  it  is  a  success?  " 

"  I  am  very  happy,  my  dear, — more  happy 
than  you  can  understand, — that  you  are  to 
marry  a  rich  man.  This  is  n't  sordid,  I  think 
— the  longing  to  have  my  girl  free  from  the 
killing  strain  of  money-worry." 

She  was  not  struck  by  the  bitter  ring  of  his 
voice. 

"  I  don't  see  why  one  should  n't  be  just  as 
happy  without  love,  do  you,  father?"  she 
mused.  "  I  suppose  you  are  not  so  rapturous 
in  the  beginning,  but  then  you  have  n't  any 
disillusion  because  you  never  had  any  illusion.5' 

"  And  dollars  are  a  very  solid  good." 

"  They  are.  Now  how  can  you  tell  whether 
you  really  get  love  or  not?  'Men  were  de 
ceivers  ever.'  But  a  house  on  the  Park  won't 
fly  away  in  the  night." 


118  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

"The  glamour  of  the  honeymoon  has  to 
fade,  my  dear.  Then  you  want  a  safety-net 
to  tumble  into  from  the  heights.  Money  is 
about  the  best  thing  I  know  to  break  the  fall." 

"But  you  forget  that  I  have  n't  any 
heights  to  fall  from.  I  never  was  in  love." 

A  possible  reason  for  her  hardness  occurred 
to  him. 

"Are  you  sure,  dear,  that  you  never  were? " 

"Never  in  the  world,"  she  answered,  with 
a  perfectly  unembarrassed  laugh.  "  That  is, 
not  since  the  days  of  Bim." 

"Whowashe-adog?" 

"  No ;  he  was  that  cousin  of  the  Grantleys' 
that  I  used  to  walk  the  back  fences  with. 
When  I  said  good-by  to  him  I  cried  all  the 
way  home.  I  was  eleven,  I  think.  He  is  the 
only  person  in  the  world  that  I  ever  loved 
dearly." 

"  Then  you  consider  a  mercenary  marriage 
a  sort  of  ark  of  safety? " 

"  I  think  so,  father." 

He  laid  his  hands  on  her  shoulders,  forcing 
her  to  meet  his  eyes. 

"  Dear,  if  you  are  sure  that  you  are  going 
to  be  happy,  I  am  very  happy  for  you — more 
glad  than  you  can  know.  I  want  to  see  you 
settled.  You  will  have  nobody  when  I  am 


A  BETROTHAL  A  LA  MODE  119 

gone.  And  I  am  glad  that  you  are  to  have  all 
that  money;  that  beautiful  house;  means  "to 
collect  all  manner  of  lovely  things  about  you ; 
to  travel ;  to  know  the  best  people  everywhere ; 
to  have  everything  that  enriches  and  adorns 
life.  I  don't  think  that  I  'm  romantic.  I 
married  for  love ;  we  were  very  much  in  love, 
both  of  us.  But  I  am  inclined  to  think  that 
people  get  on  best  where  there  is  respect  and 
liking,  but  not  love;  where  the  marriage  is  a 
calm  contract,  each  side  bringing  to  the  part 
nership  something  which  the  other  values. 
You  are  less  likely  to  be  disappointed.  And 
yet—" 

"  And  yet  you  hate  to  have  me,  as  a  bride, 
put  into  words  what  you  have  just  said?" 

"Yes.  It  's  illogical,  I  admit;  but  I  had 
rather  you  came  to  me  blushing  and  said  that 
you  were  engaged  to  the  loveliest  fellow  in 
the  world." 

"And  inwardly  you  would  think  that  I 
had  n't  half  as  much  security  of  happiness  as 
I  shall  have  with  Willoughby  Smith." 

"  I  don't  believe  that  I  like  logical  women." 

"And  I  hate  unfair  men— and  women. 
Oh,  they  do  these  things  better  in  France. 
There  they  marry  for  convenience  and  don't 
talk  cant  about  it.  Dad,  would  you  expect  me 


120  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

to  refuse  Willoughby  Smith  just  because  I 
don't  happen  to  entertain  a  romantic  affec 
tion  for  him?" 

"Honor,  is  it  necessary  always  to  call  a 
spade  a  spade?  Let  us  leave  something  un 
said,  just  for  once." 

"  No;  let  us  be  honest,  just  for  once.  You 
were  delighted  when  I  told  you  that  I  was 
engaged  to  him — I  saw  it  in  your  face.  But 
you  are  American,  you  and  mother,  and 
the  American  tradition  that  one  must  marry 
for  love  dies  hard.  You  always  expected  me 
to  make  a  rich  marriage,  but  you  expected  me 
to  save  the  situation  by  falling  in  love  with 
the  rich  man.  That  would  relieve  the  Ameri 
can  conscience.  If  I  can't  manage  it,  the 
least  I  can  do  is  to  pretend  to.  I  think  you 
demand  a  good  deal  of  your  daughter." 

"  I  am  not  aware  that  I  have  ever  made 
this  demand  you  so  harp  on — that  you  should 
marry  money." 

She  moved  about  the  room,  gathering  up 
her  wraps. 

"Oh,  no;  it  was  never  put  into  words — 
that  would  n't  be  proper  in  this  country. 
Good-night,  father." 

"  Good-night."  He  followed  her  to  open 
the  door,  and  spoke  again  in  a  friendlier  tone. 


A  BETROTHAL  A  LA  MODE  121 

"This  is  n't  a  quarrel,  is  it,  my  dear?  You 
and  I  never  quarrel.  I  am  very  glad  and 
proud,  little  daughter;  believe  it." 

He  kissed  her  on  each  cheek.  She  ac 
cepted  the  caress  without  returning  it. 

"  Good-night,  father.  Thank  you  for  your 
patience." 

"  Good-night,  my  lovely  girl." 

He  opened  the  door  for  her  with  the  charm 
ing  courtesy  he  had  even  for  his  own  family. 
A  strand  of  her  hair  had  fallen  loose  on  her 
shoulder;  he  lifted  it  and  kissed  it  as  she 
passed  him.  She  looked  back  with  a  smile. 

"  I  don't  wonder  people  fall  in  love  with 
you,  father !  " 

So  the  scene  had  ended  politely,  prettily 
even,  as  he  always  wanted  scenes  to  end — and 
to  begin,  too.  Her  bomb-throwing  must  have 
been  a  trial  to  him.  At  the  head  of  the  stairs 
the  girl  abruptly  turned  about  and  knocked 
at  his  closed  door.  When  he  opened  it,  she 
thought — as  she  had  been  before  too  self -cen 
tered  to  think— how  worn  and  tired  he  looked. 

"A  glove  lost,  dear?" 

"No,  father.  An  opportunity  lost.  I 
came  up  here  to-night  thinking  that  perhaps 
this — this  beginning  of  a  new  life  for  me 
would  be  the  beginning  of  our  understanding 


122  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

each  other  better.  I  do  love  you  so  much,  but 
we  don't  get  on.  To-night  I  meant  to  make 
things  better,  and  I  have  only  made  them  a 
thousand  times  worse.  No,  no;  I  won't  come 
in  now.  You  are  tired,  and  so  am  I.  But 
won't  you  just  believe  that  I  did  n't  come  to 
be  horrid?  I  came  to  be  nice." 

"  You  are  always  nice,  my  darling,"  he  an 
swered,  with  his  instinctive  polite  responsive 
ness,  taking  her  in  his  arms.  But  if  his  pretty 
speech  was  automatic,  his  kiss  and  his  strain 
of  her  to  his  heart  seemed  to  her  real.  She 
went  down-stairs  comforted. 


CHAPTER  VII 

MR.    ALDEN    DREAMS 

DENYS  made  it  his  rule  never  to  ruffle 
Maurice's  tranquility  just  before  or 
after  a  meal,  or  at  bedtime.  He  maintained 
that  the  delicate  nervous  organization  of  an 
artist  might  be  irreparably  injured  by  any 
disturbance  of  his  digestion  or  his  sleep.  And 
though  experience  testified  that  nothing  could 
upset  Maurice's  excellent  habits,  still  it 
amused  his  keeper  to  invent  a  code  of  exem 
plary  little  rules  and  obey  them.  To  hygienic 
scruples,  then,  Maurice  attributed  his  com 
rade's  taciturnity  on  their  way  home  from  the 
reception.  Next  morning  he  expected  a  flow 
of  conversation  from  Denys,  who  liked  as 
much  as  any  woman  to  "  talk  it  over." 

To  his  amused  surprise,  an  unaccountable 
interdict  seemed  to  have  been  laid  upon  the 
subject.  Denys  made  laboriously  polite  con 
versation  about  trifles,  and  balanced  with 
exaggerated  acumen  the  clauses  of  a  new  busi 
ness  agreement.  At  rehearsal  he  sat  dumb,  to 

123 


124  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

the  astonishment  and  relief  of  Hirt,  who  was 
accustomed,  during  these  hours  of  storm  and 
stress,  to  expect  from  him  a  frenzy  of  sug 
gestions  too  admirable  to  be  ignored  and  too 
troublesome  to  be  followed.  During  the 
evening  he  was  ostentatiously  engaged  in 
correspondence,  while  Maurice  lay  on  the 
divan  chuckling  over  "  The  Disentanglers." 

It  was  Maurice  who,  next  day,  broke  a  si 
lence  which  seemed  to  have  become  almost 
sullen. 

"  Denny,  what  are  you  worriting  about? " 
he  asked,  laying  an  affectionate  hand  on  his 
friend's  shoulder.  "  I  can't  make  you  out.  The 
only  appearance  in  society  was  all  right, 
was  n't  it?  Mrs.  Fanning  is  charming,  and 
how  well  that  little  girl  plays !  She  is  the  sort 
of  American  girl  that  makes  the  women  of  all 
other  nations  seem  awkward  and  slow.  She  's 
as  pretty  as  red  shoes,  too.  Her  musical  gift  is 
rather  gilding  refined  gold.  She  could  do 
without  it.  But  she  is  n't  a  bit  spoiled.  She 
is  easy  to  talk  to,  she  understands  what  you 
don't  say,  and  she  's  warm-hearted.  It  is  n't 
all  on  the  surface,  either.  The  better  you 
know  her,  the  better  she  '11  pan  out.  The  man 
that  gets  her  gets  a  prize.  Great  occasion, 
on  the  whole,  was  n't  it?  " 


MR.  ALDEN  DREAMS          125 

'  Very  satisfactory,"  answered  Denys, 
without  looking  up  from  his  newspaper. 

Lifting  his  expressive  eyebrows,  Maurice 
sauntered  off  to  the  piano. 

Denys  mused.  Without  doubt,  this  was 
fine,  hearty  speech — a  little  too  frank  and 
hearty,  one  might  demur,  for  lover's  praise. 
Yet  he  knew  so  well  Maurice's  uncivilized 
directness  that  it  seemed  quite  like  him  to  fall 
in  love  without  thought  of  concealment  or 
embarrassment.  Although,  for  all  his  candor, 
Denys  could  not,  even  after  thirty-six  hours 
of  brooding,  quite  picture  himself  inquiring 
the  boy's  intentions,  in  the  heavy-father  man 
ner,  yet  when  he  saw  the  tenor  sitting  idle 
before  the  keyboard,  his  eyes  fixed  on  vacancy 
for  ten  consecutive  minutes,  he  felt  that  it 
deserved  the  name  of  portent.  Maurice 
thinking! 

For  two  distressful  nights  had  vague  mis 
givings  haunted  Denys's  troubled  sleep  and 
waking  hours.  By  daylight  he  could  see  the 
absurdity  of  supposing  that,  after  two  meet 
ings,  either  Maurice  or  Margery  would  have 
fallen  in  love  with  the  other.  Yet  he  could  not 
forget  Margery's  face  as  she  praised  Tolna, 
nor  their  evident  mutual  understanding.  He 
assured  himself  stoutly  that  they  were  making 


126  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

friends  for  his  sake.  But  if  they  were  at 
tracted  ever  so  slightly,  it  was  imperative  that 
the  girl  should  learn  at  once  the  truth  about 
Tolna.  He  knew  that  his  nerves  were  over 
strung.  He  perceived  the  wisdom  of  silence, 
and  thereupon  he  spoke : 

"  For  a  man  who  affects  to  despise  the  sex, 
it  strikes  me  that  you  're  uncommon  compli 
mentary,  Maurice ! " 

Maurice  laughed.  "  So  that 's  its  name?  I 
saw  that  you  had  got  up  a  brand-new  griev 
ance,  Denny.  I  don't  affect  to  despise  the 
sex,  mine  ancient.  I  don't  even  despise  it. 
Like  all  sensible  men,  I  hold  that  it 's  made  up 
of  women  and  not  of  angels.  Personally,  I 
prefer  that  distribution.  But  the  few  speci 
mens  you  've  allowed  me  to  approach  hitherto 
have  n't  seemed  necessary  to  my  happiness. 
Last  night,  you  see,  youth  and  beauty  hap 
pened  to  have  brains  and  breeding,  too.  Of 
course  I  was  a  foredoomed  victim.  You  've 
protected  me  from  that  fatal  combination 
up  to  this  time.  Alas!  Denny,  'the  shafts 
at  random  sent  found  mark  the  archer  little 
meant.'  " 

Against  his  will,  Denys  blundered  on: 

"  Do  you  mean  it,  Maurice  ?  Have  you  met 
your  fate?" 

"  I  wonder !    I  'm  not  an  expert.    Some  of 


MR.  ALDEN  DREAMS         127 

the  cardiac  symptoms  may  be  irregular.  For 
bonny  Annie  Laurie  I  'd  not  lay  me  down  and 
dee,— which  is,  I  have  read,  the  patient's  in 
dicative  condition.  Denys,  this  is  a  crisis.  I 
must  reflect.  Forsaking  all  others,  could  I 
cleave  only  to  her  till—  No,  I  really  can't 
give  you  up,  my  son;  so  I  hope  she  won't 
make  it  a  condition.  But  I  can  imagine 
myself  giving  up  all  my  other  bad  habits 
and  evil  companions  on  the  day  that  she 
graciously  consents  to  become  a  substitute. 
How  do  you  diagnose  my  peculiar  case,  Doc 
tor  Alden?" 

"  Must  you  always  grin  through  a  horse- 
collar,  Maurice?  Can't  you  treat  even  a  lady 
with  respect?  If  you  ask  me — it  is  n't  in  you 
to  love.  When  I  think  of  what  you  would 
give  and  what  you  would  get, — it 's  too  mon 
strous!  To  you,  life  is  a  gigantic  jest.  To  her 
—to  any  imaginative  girl,  ignorant  of  the 
world — it  's —  Maurice,  it  can't  be  argued 
about.  I  am  trying  to  be  fair.  You  did  n't 
make  yourself." 

Maurice  whirled  about  on  the  music-stool, 
his  eyes  shining  with  mischief. 

"  Mighty  good  job,  though,  if  I  can't  claim 
the  credit.  Look  here,  Denny,  I  'm  a  regular 
violet-by-a-mossy-stone,  as  you  very  well 
know  when  you  're  not  in  a  wax.  But  if  I 


128  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

must  speak  up  for  myself,  I  will  remark  that  I 
feel  within  me,  all  a-buddin'  and  a-growin', 
the  makings  of  a  meek  and  lowly  American- 
patent  husband,  prepared  to  efface  himself 
and  hand  over  to  his  wife  the  family  thinking. 
I  '11  earn  the  money,  and  she  shall  spend  it. 
She  shall  decree,  and  I  will  obey.  And  if  that 
won't  make  a  fellow-countrywoman  happy, 
tradition  and  observation  are  alike  at  fault. 
Gome,  Denny;  you  beg  my  modest  question. 
Was  I  a  howling  success  on  Sunday  night, 
or  was  I  not?  Old  Hirt  will  put  up  '  stand 
ing-room  only'  for  the  next  three  weeks,  on 
the  strength  of  the  free  advertising  you  've 
secured.  Why  sit  ye  there  so  mumchance?  " 

"  I  have  no  right  to  question  you,  I 
know — " 

"  Then  don't,  Denys.  Take  the  advice  of 
a  humble  admirer.  Omniscience  is  n't  really 
good  for  you,  though  your  constitution  stands 
the  strain  so  wonderfully.  So  just  let  the 
weak  and  erring  flounder  on  in  their  own 
chosen  paths.  If  we  win  out,  you  '11  have  a 
pleasant  surprise;  and  if  we  don't,  you  '11 
have  known  it  all  along.  Indifference  to  the 
troubles  of  your  fellow-creatures  is  the  only 
grace  your  character  lacks,  my  dear  young 
friend." 


MR.  ALDEN  DREAMS         129 

"Are  you  telling  me  to  mind  my  own 
business,  Maurice?" 

"  To  my  refined  ear  your  phrasing  seems 
less  happy  than  my  own — which  you  don't 
appear  to  find  obscure." 

An  angry  red  burned  in  Denys's  cheek. 

"  For  thirteen  years  I  have  considered  you 
more  my  business  than  anything  in  the  world 
— except  one.  Do  you  wish  me  to  give  up  my 
office?" 

"  Bless  you,  no,  Denny.  At  least  I  don't 
want  you  to  give  me  up.  If  you  could  con 
duct  a  retail  concern  as  Earthly  Providence, 
so  to  say,  instead  of  a  wholesale  and  commis 
sion  one — take  Saturdays  and  Sundays  off, 
perhaps?  How  can  you  know  what  's  in  me, 
you  old  Solomon,  so  long  as  I  must  n't  dance 
unless  you  pull  the  string?  Not  in  me  to  love, 
eh?  Why,  my  one  social  experience  has  re 
vealed  me  to  myself  as  a  headlong  sentiment 
alist.  I  have  n't  a  doubt  that  I  'm  various 
other  equally  interesting  characters,  if  you  'd 
let  me  find  it  out." 

Denys  took  up  his  hat.  Through  all  the 
boy's  nonsense  there  sounded,  in  the  ear  of  the 
listener,  a  new  note  of  purpose.  Though 
Maurice  would  admit  nothing,  Denys  had 
always  believed  that,  once  in  earnest,  his 


130  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

sweetness  and  charm  would  win  any  maid. 
And  now  his  admiration  for  Margery  was  so 
evident  that  her  knight-errant  saw  his  own 
hard  devoir  staring  him  in  the  face. 

"  I  must  beg  your  pardon,"  he  said  stiffly, 
"  for  my  well-meant  tyrannies.  You  will  ad 
mit,  I  suppose,  that  there  is  only  one  thing  to 
do  now?" 

"  For  me  to  beg  yours,  perhaps?  You  will 
admit,  I  suppose,  that  I  at  least  have  kept  my 
temper— under  some  provocation." 

Denys's  hand  was  on  the  door-knob. 

"  I  am  on  my  way  to  do  penance,"  he 
answered.  "  I  am  going  to  confess." 

Maurice's  open  face  expressed  a  surprise 
so  great  as  to  resemble  dismay.  Denys 
glanced  at  him  and  went  on  sharply : 

"  I  don't  hear  the  enthusiasm  I  expected 
from  the  tireless  advocate  of  the  truth,  the 
whole  truth,  and  nothing  but  the  truth.  Have 
I  your  permission  to  tell  it?  " 

Maurice  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  I  understood  that  I  was  n't  to  be  con 
sulted,"  he  answered,  going  back  to  his  notes. 

Denys  hesitated  again.  Still  hurt  and 
irritated,  he  was  even  more  bewildered.  A 
real  disagreement  with  Maurice  was  a  thing 
unbelievable.  Yet  every  word  that  he  had 


MR.  ALDEN  DREAMS        131 

spoken  had  marred  his  cause  instead  of  mend 
ing. 

Ou      se      de  -  vi    -    ne     La     pre  -  cen  -  ce  (Tune 


in  -  no  -  cen   -  te     et     di  -    vi   -   -   -    ne. 

trolled  out  Maurice,  reaching  and  holding  his 
crystalline  high  C  with  as  conscientious  a  pre 
cision  as  if  slighted  love  and  wounded  friend 
ship  had  no  place  in  his  world. 

Defeated,  Denys  closed  the  door  and 
plunged  into  the  street. 

What  worse  pain  was  likely  to  follow  his 
confession  to  Margery,  he  did  not  ask  him 
self.  It  was  she  only  who  was  to  be  consid 
ered.  Neither  he  nor  Maurice  counted  in  the 
reckoning. 

Miss  Fanning  was  at  home,  and,  had  he 
known  it,  in  a  somewhat  chastened  mood. 
The  only  thing  to  be  predicted  of  Margery's 
spirits  was  that  they  never  stayed  long  in  the 
same  key.  Her  flights  of  daring  were  suc 
ceeded  by  a  shivering  timidity;  her  peccadil- 


132  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

los,  by  quick  repentances.  Last  night  she 
had  gleefully  tried  to  make  her  slave  jealous 
of  the  Celebrity.  To-day  she  felt  with  inten 
sity  her  unkindness  to  poor  Denys.  Monsieur 
Tolna  understood  perfectly  that  she  was  not 
flirting.  She  had  no  compunctions  about  him. 
But  Denys  had  bade  her  good-night  with  a 
look  of  pain  that  she  hated  to  think  of.  All 
readiness  to  make  reparation,  she  ran  down 
the  stairs,  resolved  to  be  very  kind  to  him. 

At  the  foot  of  the  flight  she  suddenly 
halted;  her  face  and  neck  crimsoned.  The  re 
membrance  of  the  much  that  he  had  said,  of 
the  more  that  he  had  looked,  at  the  reception, 
implied  the  imminence  of  the  one  question; 
and,  in  his  inmost  heart,  how  could  he  doubt 
her  answer? 

She  felt  half  inclined  to  hide  herself  away 
and  postpone  the  beautiful  moment  that 
seemed  so  near.  Then  she  straightened  her 
slim  shoulders,  holding  her  head  up  proudly, 
ashamed  to  shrink  from  her  happiness.  Mak 
ing  sure  in  the  hall  mirror  that  she  was  only 
pink  enough  to  look  pretty,  she  gave  her  hair 
a  last  fluff,  pulled  out  the  sash  of  her  dainty 
gown,  and  airily  entered  the  drawing-room. 

With  the  superior  composure  of  her  sex  in 
these  crises,  she  chattered  easily  of  the  party 


MR.  ALDEN  DREAMS         133 

till  her  guest's  inattention  became  too  marked 
to  be  longer  ignored.    A  little  nervously — 

"  What  is  the  matter? "  she  demanded. 
"  You  look  as  if  you  had  come  to  bury  Csesar, 
when  I  want  you  to  praise  him.  Praise  every 
thing,  Mr.  Alden:  the  music,  the  guests,  the 
flowers,  the  supper,  the  hostesses.  Nothing 
less  will  satisfy  me." 

"  I  can't  praise  anything  but  your  playing, 
Miss  Fanning.  I  don't  remember  anything 
but  that." 

She  glowed  beautifully. 

"  I  am  so  pleased  that  you  liked  it." 

"  What  will  please  you  more— Tolna  was 
delighted." 

"  And  why  should  it  please  me  more,  Mr. 
Alden?  He  is  no  better  critic  than  you." 

She  made  her  little  compliment  with  her 
prettiest  smile,  when  he  replied  disagreeably: 

"  My  opinion  hardly  counts.  You  were 
playing  for  him." 

Margery  was  provoked.  Having  repented 
of  her  effort  to  make  Denys  jealous,  having 
vowed  to  herself  to  torment  him  no  more,  and 
having  attempted  to  blot  out  the  offense  by 
a  present  demeanor  all  sweetness,  it  was  to 
her  as  if  the  offense  had  never  existed.  Most 
tiresome  and  ungenerous  of  the  man  to  be 


134  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

still  harping  on  this  old  string,  she  thought 
with  rising  color. 

He  went  on  after  a  moment: 

"  His  presence  was  the  event  of  the  evening 
to  you?" 

"  Of  course,"  she  said  defiantly. 

"  I  saw  at  once  that  you  and  he  felt  in 
touch,  that  you  were  talking  together  as  if 
you  had  known  him  all  your  life.  That  curi 
ous  rapport  at  a  first  meeting — you  felt  it 
with  him,  Miss  Fanning?  " 

It  is  to  be  noted  that  Denys  had  not  consid 
ered  it  proper  to  mention  her  name  to  Mau 
rice,  nor  to  question  him  thus  closely,  though 
years  of  guardianship  might  be  thought  to 
give  him  a  right,  and  though  his  friend  had 
shown  no  over-susceptible  temper.  But 
Margery,  a  human  sensitive-plant,  he  was 
probing  without  mercy.  Girls,  she  said  to 
herself,  indignantly,  have  to  suffer  (for  their 
own  good,  it  is  assumed)  an  amount  of  bad 
gering  about  their  love-affairs  to  which  no 
one  dreams  of  subjecting  a  man.  It  would 
be  hard  indeed  if  they  might  not  make  re 
prisals. 

While  her  indifference  to  Monsieur  Tolna's 
charms  spared  her  any  embarrassment,  it  did 
not  avert  her  wrath  from  his  ally.  Folding 


MR.  ALDEN  DREAMS         135 

her  hands  in  her  lap,  she  looked  steadily  into 
Denys's  troubled  face. 

"  Have  you  been  to  the  Water-color  Ex 
hibition,  Mr.  Alden?  Hyacinth  Lawrence 
has  a  landscape  on  the  line.  She  is  the  most 
amazing  genius,  that  girl.  Did  you  under 
stand  that  she  arranged  our  whole  Hungarian 
theme  on  Sunday  night?  Even  Herr  Hoff 
mann  said  that  it  was  masterly.  And  as  to 
her  painting,  did  you  know  that  she  never 
seriously  studied  it  till  last  year?  " 

The  even,  conventional  tones  seemed  to 
madden  Denys.  He  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"I  did  n't  come  to  discuss  water-colors 
and  scales.  I  came  to  tell  you — about 
Tolna." 

She  was  completely  taken  aback.  What 
could  possibly  justify  this  portentous  begin 
ning?  Unless— she  blushed  with  confusion 
at  her  own  blushing.  Certainly,  Tolna  had 
been  most  friendly  with  her,  and  she  with 
him.  Had  he  misunderstood  her  meaning? 
She  had  been  so  sure  that  she  had  seen  his 
unguarded  admiration  for  another  girl,,  so 
sure  that  he  knew  she  had  seen  it.  She  tried 
to  laugh  off  her  misgiving. 

"  Well,  Mr.  Alden,  what  is  it?  Like  Pet 
Marjorie's  bereaved  fowl,  I  am  *  more  thaa 


136  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

usual  calm.'  Nothing  can  be  half  so  serious 
as  you  look." 

"  He  wanted  me  to  tell  you.  He  thought 
it  was  your  right  to  know." 

In  his  eagerness  to  make  it  plain  that  he 
was  betraying  Tolna  by  Tolna's  own  consent 
he  blundered  on  unfortunate  phrases.  And 
she,  with  no  suspicion  of  the  actual  secret, 
could  surmise  but  one  reason  for  such  a  confi 
dence  as  threatened  her.  But  if  it  were  she 
whom  he  desired,  how  could  the  man  have 
looked  so  at  Honor  Hammond,  with  all  his 
soul  in  his  eyes? 

"  If  you  blame  him,  Miss  Fanning,— if  you 
think  he  is  n't  absolutely  sincere  and  single- 
minded, — notwithstanding  what  may  seem  to 
you  mercenary,  you  do  him  a  great  injustice. 
The  fault  is  altogether  mine.  Things  did  n't 
look  the  same  in  Europe.  I  could  n't  have 
borne  that  he  should  fail,  and  it  seemed  to  me 
the  only  way.  I  was  all  wrong.  I  ought  to 
have  told  you  everything.  But  I  could  n't 
foresee  what  has  happened." 

Margery  looked  at  him  in  blank  amaze 
ment.  His  haggard  face,  his  stammering 
speech,  his  penitential  aspect — was  this  the 
blithe,  self-confident  Denys?  Suddenly  she 
understood.  What  had  seemed  to  Denys  the 


MR.  ALDEN  DREAMS         137 

only  way  to  success?  What  had  not  looked 
the  same  in  Europe?  What  might  she 
think  mercenary?  Why,  a  marriage  for 
money,  of  course.  Tolna  could  not  be  rich. 
Miss  Hammond,  beautiful  though  she  was, 
had  nothing,  while  she  herself —  Only  too 
well  did  Margery  comprehend  the  usual  am 
bition  of  foreigners  of  ancient  line.  Any  girl 
with  a  million  in  her  own  right  is  taught  to 
look  upon  herself  as  the  natural  prey  of  the 
fortune-hunter. 

She  sprang  to  her  feet,  her  eyes  flashing. 

"  No  more,  Mr.  Alden.  I  will  hear  nothing 
more  from  you  concerning  Monsieur  Tolna." 

"  Miss  Fanning,  I  am  most  unhappy  to 
disobey  you;  but,  in  barest  justice  to  him  and 
to  you — and  to  me,  if  that  weighs  with  you,  I 
must  go  on." 

"  I  can  leave  the  room,  Mr.  Alden,  if  you 
insist." 

He  stopped  her,  clutching  her  wrist,  his 
agitation  getting  beyond  his  control  at  sight 
of  hers. 

"You  shall  not  go!  What  right  have 
you  to  treat  me  so?  Can't  you  see  what  it 
costs  me  to  tell  you  the  truth — about  my  dear 
est  friend?  I  don't  count  myself.  God 
knows  I  'd  hold  my  tongue  forever,  now  the 


138  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

harm  is  done,  if  it  were  n't  a  point  of  honor. 
It  is  his  due — and  yours.  I  must  n't  think  of 
what  I  lose.  Margery,  on  Sunday  night  I 
saw — I  could  n't  help  seeing — how  perfectly 
you  understood  each  other— as  if  you  had  been 
friends  for  years,  instead  of  hours.  But  even 
then  I  did  n't  believe,  because  I  could  n't 
believe — not  till  this  morning  could  I  face  the 
possibility— not  till  he  told  me—  And  then  I 
knew  that  I  had  kept  silence  too  long.  I  came 
straight  here— to  confess  to  you  how  he— how 
I — Margery,  in  God's  name  tell  me  whether 
you— whether  you— Margery,  won't  you  an 
swer  me?  " 

His  eyes  were  like  some  tortured  animal's, 
his  voice  a  sob  of  suspense  and  pain.  All  her 
little  coquetries,  doubts,  resentments,  reserves, 
dropped  from  her.  Her  eyes  were  two  bea 
con-lights  flashing  love  and  joy  as  she  cried: 

"  Oh,  Denys,  you  know!  " 

The  admission  boldly  made,  she  looked 
away  in  sudden  terror.  But  he  did  not  touch 
her.  After  a  moment,  in  an  easy  voice,  with 
even  a  note  of  raillery  in  it,  he  said : 

"  I  congratulate  Maurice." 

And  his  face  had  said  so  unmistakably  that 
he  was  asking  for  himself!  Her  heart  stood 
still. 


MR.  ALDEN  DREAMS         139 

Of  course  all  their  speech  had  been  of 
Tolna.  But  she,  credulous  fool!  because  for 
her  no  other  man  than  Denys  existed,  must 
needs  think  that  he  spoke  of  himself.  It  did 
not  occur  to  her  to  reflect  that  if  she  had  read 
his  question  wrong,  she  must  have  read  his 
love  truly.  No  loyal  anxiety  for  his  friend 
could  blanch  his  cheeks  as  they  had  blanched 
then.  But  she  was  incapable  of  weighing 
evidence,  her  whole  being  swamped  in  dismay 
at  having  committed  a  girl's  unpardonable 
sin — offered  her  love  where  it  was  not  asked. 
Helpless,  she  hid  her  face  in  her  hands.  Pres 
ently  Denys  went  on : 

4  This  is  the  most  beautiful  thing  that  ever 
could  have  happened  in  my  life.  My  dearest 
friend,  and  my  pearl  among  women!  " 

She  saw  that  she  could  never,  never  let 
Denys  guess  his  mistake.  Her  imagination, 
flying  forward  over  the  logical  consequences 
of  standing  by  the  misapprehension,  pictured 
her  actually  standing  before  the  altar  with 
Tolna,  bridesmaids,  ushers,  and  a  church  full 
of  curious  onlookers  bearing  witness  to  the 
irrevocableness  of  her  vows.  This  very  after 
noon,  she  resolved,  her  mother  should  take 
tickets  for  Japan. 

She  thrust  up  her  hands,  palms  out,  as  if  to 


140  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

push  away  something  that  smothered  her,  cry 
ing  out  in  a  last  effort  to  escape: 

"  But  he — you  can't  know.  You  must  be 
wrong.  What  am  I  to  him?  You  said  your 
self  that  he  was  the  mere  friend  of  an  hour. 
He  has  seen  me  but  that  once." 

Denys,  embarked  on  a  career  of  misunder 
standings,  of  course  misread  her  distress. 
Still,  in  his  tone  of  careful  lightness  he  an 
swered  : 

"  When  one  Romeo  of  Verona  had  seen  a 
lady  only  once —  ' 

"  But  this  is  n't  the  fourteenth  century. 
And — and  he  knows  that  I  am  rich." 

Denys  started. 

"  Margery,  you  don't  mean  that?" 

"  Not  of  you,"  she  cried  quickly,  ashamed 
that  even  for  a  moment  she  had  thought  him  a 
partner  in  his  friend's  abominable  scheme. 
"  No,  you  never  meant  to  sacrifice  me.  Over 
there,  when  you  merely  speculated  about 
some  unknown  rich  girl  who  would  be  only 
too  glad  to  exchange  her  money  for  his  title, 
it  would  n't  seem  the  same,  I  know.  But 
Monsieur  Tolna  can't  care  for  me.  It  is  my 
fortune,"  she  declared  roundly,  out  of  the  dis 
gust  she  felt  for  that  base  creature.  Then, 
remembering  her  confession  that  she  loved 
him,  she  stammered,  "At  least,  I — I  don't  feel 


MR.  ALDEN  DREAMS         141 

sure  of  him,"  and  took  refuge  in  a  burst  of 
tears. 

His  hand  was  on  her  shoulder. 

"  Margery,  Margery,  what  can  you  mean? 
Maurice  never  had  a  mercenary  thought  in 
his  life.  He  loves  you — you  yourself.  You 
do  him  the  greatest  injustice  if  you  believe 
that  he  has  once  thought  of  your  money.  I 
have  known  him  from  a  child.  I  have  never 
seen  a  nature  more  honest,  generous,  unselfish. 
No  man  in  the  world  is  good  enough  for  you, 
but  Maurice  Tolna  is  the  least  unworthy.  I 
am  not  his  ambassador.  I  must  n't  repeat  to 
you  what  he  said  to  me  this  morning,  because 
it  is  his  right  to  say  it  to  you  himself.  But  if 
you  earned  your  bread  it  would  be  all  one  to 
him,  except  that  he  would  have  the  joy  of 
earning  it  for  you.  You  believe  me,  my 
child?" 

Her  sobs  were  hushed.  She  sat  silent  and 
thoughtful.  But  one  more  thing  was  de 
manded  of  him.  To  save  her  the  least  shadow 
of  unhappiness,  not  only  must  he  praise  his 
rival,  he  must  conceal  the  rivalry.  Not  only 
must  he  suffer  the  martyr's  pang,  he  must 
thrust  aside  the  martyr's  crown. 

Since  she  did  not  look  up,  his  gallant  smile 
was  hardly  worth  the  effort  it  cost  him. 


142  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

"  Your  happiness  and  my  dearest  friend's," 
he  said.  "  It  is  my  dream  come  true." 

She  gave  him  one  fleeting  glance. 

"  Denys,  I  cannot  understand  it.  Are  we 
both  tangled  up  in  a  dream?  Shall  we  wake 
and  find  that  nothing  is  changed  since  the 
other  night?  Oh,  that  would  be  so  much  the 
best  thing!" 

Into  Denys's  haggard  eyes  leaped  a  sudden 
hope.  He  bent  over  her.  "Margery,"  he  said 
softly  — 

A  silken  rustle  in  the  doorway  was  followed 
by  the  gay  irruption  of  Mrs.  Burnham,  de 
vastator  of  opportunities. 

"  Hello,  Margery!  "  she  cried.  "Well  met, 
Mr.  Alden !  Will  you  and  your  prodigy  dine 
with  us,  on  the  third,  to  meet  the  Prince?  " 

"  Unluckily  for  us,  Mrs.  Burnham,  the 
prodigy  performs  that  evening." 

"Why,  of  course;  we  're  all  going  to  see 
him  do  it  afterward.  How  stupid  of  me! 
Why  did  n't  you  import  two  of  them,  while 
you  were  about  it,  Mr.  Alden?  There  is  n't 
enough  of  one  to  go  round.  A  double  would 
work  beautifully." 

Denys  had  taken  up  his  hat.  The  smile 
was  shadowy  with  which  he  answered : 

"  One  Tolna  may  yet  be  my  undoing,  dear 
lady." 


CHAPTER  VIII 

MR.  ALDEN  WAKES 

DENYS  never  knew  how  he  covered  the 
mile  or  two  between  the  Fanning  house 
and  Thirty-fifth  Street.  To  his  conscious 
ness,  he  walked  out  of  Margery's  door  into  his 
own,  whence  Maurice  was  issuing,  very  smart 
in  riding-clothes. 

"  Give  up  your  ride  to-day,  boy.  I  want  to 
speak  to  you." 

It  was  a  sunny,  still,  winter  afternoon,  New 
York  at  its  best,  when  the  very  air  seems  elec 
tric  with  the  city's  eager  spirit. 

"Have  I  got  to  sign  a  contract?"  said 
Maurice.  "  I  'd  rather  ride." 

'  You  almost  quote  Browning." 

"Heaven  forefend!"  the  singer  cried, 
crossing  himself. 

The  Tolna  of  Denys's  imagination  would 
not  have  done  this. 

"  Don't!  "  he  cried  sharply. 

Maurice  looked  amused. 

"  Turning  monk  ?    What 's  up  ? " 

143 


144  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

"  Come  into  the  house,"  bade  Denys,  lead 
ing  the  way.  The  other  followed,  half  reluc 
tant,  half  curious.  He  had  quite  forgotten 
his  annoyance  with  his  comrade.  When  the 
chief's  eyes  burned  and  his  dark  cheek  was 
tinged  with  red,  schemes  unpredictable  were 
bubbling  in  his  restless  brain.  Marking  his 
embarrassed  excitement,  Maurice  prepared 
with  amusement  to  hear  some  proposition  out- 
Denysing  Denys's  usual  whimsicality  and 
daring. 

"  Well,  let  's  have  it,"  he  prompted,  as  the 
schemer  remained  deep  in  reverie. 

But  Denys  still  hung  silent.  Notwith 
standing  his  momentary  doubt,  he  had  told 
himself,  on  leaving  Margery,  that  he  could 
not  be  wrong.  No  girl,  he  thought,  could  be 
unmoved  by  Tolna's  face  and  voice  and  man 
ner,  while  Margery  must  feel  that  she  already 
knew  him  well.  By  the  depth  of  his  own  de 
votion  to  her,  he  measured  his  obligation  to 
secure  her  happiness. 

On  his  road  here  his  errand  had  seemed  sim 
plicity  itself — merely  to  tell  Maurice  what  a 
treasure  was  his,  to  exhort  him  to  be  worthy 
of  it.  If  he  loved  her,  as  Denys  now  dared 
not  doubt,  she  had  already  her  heart's  desire. 
Even  if  his  outspoken  admiration  were  not 


MR.  ALDEN  WAKES         145 

yet  more  than  admiration — why,  even  then, 
in  the  awe-struck  mood,  exalted,  yet  humble, 
which  must  follow  his  knowledge  that  an 
angel  had  stooped  to  love  him,  the  boy  would 
be  wax  to  grant  any  service,  any  sacrifice.  So 
Denys  planned  with  god-like  confidence— till 
his  self-assurance  was  riven  by  no  greater 
blow  than  the  sight  of  Tolna's  riding-suit. 
The  picture  was  out  of  focus.  You  simply 
could  not  imagine  a  romantic  lover  in  such 
extremely  modish  clothes. 

In  an  every-day  voice  Denys  began  to  feel 
his  way. 

"I  Ve  been  thinking  of  the  many  changes 
of  arrangement  that  you  and  I  must  make, 
should  you  marry." 

There  was  no  mistaking  it:  Maurice 
jumped. 

"  What  makes  you  say  that? " 

"  It  was  just  a  speculation,"  Denys  pro 
ceeded,  still  warily.  "You  are  the  kind  of 
person  to  whom  his  home  life  means  a  great 
deal." 

"I  am  said  to  be  the  original  of  the  man 
who  never  cared  to  wander  from  his  ain  fire 
side." 

"All  you  need  to  complete  your  domesti 
city  is  a  wife." 
10 


146  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

"  If  I  had  a  wife,  I  should  n't  be  domestic." 

"Don't  talk  that  cheap  cynicism." 

"  Oh,  I  'd  ask  nothing  better  than  to  sit  at 
home  with  her.  But  I  should  n't  be  let. 
She  'd  want  to  go  to  things  every  other  min 
ute.  However,  Denys,  when  you  talk  of  my 
nuptials,  I  think  you  mean  your  own." 

"  If  you  mean  my  friendship  for  Miss  Fan 
ning,"  Denys  said  steadily,  "  that  is  no  more 
than  a  friendship." 

"  The  way  you  looked  at  her  the  other  night 
would  make  old  Plato  turn  in  his  grave." 

"  I  am  very  fond  of  her,  as  I  have  been  of 
her  mother  all  my  life.  But  I  think  of  her  as 
a  little  sister.  I  have  never  asked  her  to  marry 
me,  nor  do  I  intend  to." 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  old  man,"  Maurice 
said,  with  more  seriousness  than  he  had  yet 
shown.  "  I  'm  sure  I  don't  know  why  people 
should  always  jump  to  one  conclusion  when  a 
man  shows  that  he  likes  a  girl." 

"  It  occurred  to  me  that  you  might  have 
misunderstood  my  interest  in  the  family,  so  I 
wanted  to  tell  you  that  you  need  n't  be  held 
back  by  any  scruple  about  me." 

Maurice  laughed  out. 

"  My  dear  fellow,  I  'm  not  an  aspirant." 

"You — you    were    n't    taken    with    her? 


MR.  ALDEN  WAKES          147 

Why,  you  said,  this  morning,  that  you  were 
a  foredoomed  victim.  You  said  that  you — 
that  she—  Maurice,  you  almost  quarreled 
with  me  about  her." 

"  So  the  lamb  r'iled  up  the  stream,  did  he, 
you  poor,  innocent  wolf?  Oh,  Denys,  don't 
you  know,  yet,  when  I  'm  trying  to  get  a  rise 
out  of  you?  Or  if  it  was  n't  all  chaff — I 
thought  Miss  Fanning  charming,  of  course. 
No  chance  for  argument  there.  But  I  'd 
rather  not  marry  her,  if  it  's  all  the  same  to 
you,  my  friend." 

His  smile  was  more  final  than  the  hottest 
protest.  Denys's  world  reeled.  His  first 
feeling  was  an  instinctive  joy  that  the  other 
man  did  not  claim  her.  Then  he  remembered 
the  wonderful  look  with  which  she  had 
avowed  her  love,  and  the  positive  assurance 
he  had  given  her  that  that  love  was  returned. 

At  his  face  of  dismay,  his  comrade  began 
to  laugh  again. 

"  Of  course  I  want  to  marry  you  off.  It 
will  be  nuts  to  me  to  see  my  jailer  in  irons. 
But  why  you  should  want  to  marry  me  off; 
to  share  your  slave — " 

"But  even  if  you  have  n't  thought  of  it, 
think  of  it  now.  She  's  pretty  and  good  and 
clever  and  rich — " 


148  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

"  Denys,  in  this  country  the  occupation  of 
match-making  is  generally  left  to  old  ladies. 
I  suppose  it  's  your  European  training  that 
enables  you  to  take  it  up  without  a  man's 
natural  shame." 

"Maurice-" 

"  Confound  the  cold-blooded  European 
grossness  of  the  thing !  I  raise  the  red  flag  of 
rebellion.  I  should  be  something  less  than  a 
free-born  American  if  I  let  myself  be  ma- 
noeuvered  by  a  match-maker.  I  'd  give  up  the 
only  girl  I  ever  loved  sooner  than  have  an  old 
lady — of  either  sex — get  the  credit  of  the 
affair." 

"  I  had  no  intention  of  grossness,  Maurice, 
when  I  hoped  that  my  dearest  friend  and  the 
daughter  of  my  oldest  friend  might  fancy 
each  other.  I  certainly  would  have  done  any 
thing  I  could  to  further  that  end." 

"  You  're  too  kind.  But  understand  once- 
for  all,  Denys,  that  I  intend  to  pick  out  my 
wife  for  myself.  I  am  not  such  a  lunatic  as  to 
tie  myself  up  to  a  life-partner  unless  there  's 
a  straight-out,  genuine,  name-blown-in- 
the-glass,  signature-on-every-package,  war- 
ranted-to-stand-all-climates,  rain-and-dust- 
proof ,  all-wool-and-three-miles-wide  love  be 
tween  us." 


MR.  ALDEN  WAKES          149 

Under  a  tone  of  jest,  the  young  man's  voice 
was  vibrant  with  resentment.  But  Denys 
scarcely  realized  the  earnestness  of  a  feeling 
that  finds  expression  in  flippant  words. 

"Maurice,  you  don't  see  that  I  'm  serious. 
If  I  introduce  a  lady's  name,  it  is  n't  in  idle 


ness." 


"  Naturally  not.  I  knew  it  was  some  new 
advertising  dodge." 

He  spoke  with  deliberate  offensiveness, 
calculated  to  bar  Denys  off  the  subject. 
But  Denys  pursued  doggedly,  with  a  grieved 
patience : 

"  You  would  not  jest  if  you  knew  how  sa 
cred-" 

"On  a  subject  a  man  considers  sacred, 
he  'd  better  keep  still." 

"  Sometimes  it  is  his  hard  duty  to  speak. 
Maurice — I — count  myself  much  to  blame." 

Maurice  dropped  into  a  chair. 

"Denys,  I  don't  like  this  conversation. 
But  if  you  must  go  on,  go  on,  and  get  done  as 
soon  as  you  can." 

Denys  began  in  a  low  voice,  his  eyes  on  the 
flames. 

"  Last  summer,  all  those  eight  weeks  that  I 
was  with  them  in  the  Tyrol,  I  used  to  talk  to 
Margery  constantly  of  you.  I  was  full  of 


150  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

you.  She  looked  forward  with  delight  to 
meeting  you  here  this  winter.  She  had  all  a 
musician's  interest  in  you  as  a  singer.  What 
more  natural  than  that  your  name  should  be 
always  on  our  lips?  Fool  that  I  was,  never  to 
see  what  I  was  bringing  about !  I  might  have 
guessed  the  other  night.  To-day  I  went  there 
to  make  a  clean  breast  of  it,  but  before  I  had 
time  to  confess  I  found  out  that  she  loved 
you." 

Maurice  groaned  out: 

"  Loved  that  ass,  Tolna,  you  mean." 

No  Nathan  could  have  said,  "  Thou  art  the 
man,"  more  sternly  than  Denys  pronounced, 
"You  are  Tolna." 

"  But  Tolna  's  not  I.  Any  one  capable  of 
falling  in  love  with  Tolna,  I,  for  one,  have  no 
sympathy  with." 

"  You  are  not  Jekyll  and  Hyde.  You  are 
precisely  the  same  person  in  this  room  that 
you  are  on  the  stage." 

"Granted;  but  I  'm  not  the  person  she 
thinks  I  am." 

"  Of  course  she  idealizes  you.  If  girls 
did  n't  idealize  us,  the  human  race  would  die 
out." 

"  I  don't  object  to  being  idealized — I  can 
imagine  finding  it  quite  pleasant.  But  I  do 


MR.  ALDEN  WAKES         151 

object  to  being  taken  for  another  man.  The 
child's  imagination  is  kindled  by  a  paladin  in 
tin  armor  that  sings  solos.  Am  I  a  tin  pala 
din?" 

"Don't  quibble." 

"  I  'm  not  quibbling.  I  'm  proving  an  al 
ibi,"  Maurice  laughed.  "For  three  hours, 
two  or  three  times  a  week,  I  'm  the  tin  pala 
din.  The  rest  of  the  time  I  'm  Morris  Ford- 
ham,  of  whose  commonplace  existence  she 
has  n't  a  guess.  You  Ve  filled  her  romantic 
head  with  your  Tolna  fairy-tales — " 

"  You  can't  separate  yourself  from  Tolna." 

"Don't  I  wish  I  could!" 

"  But  it  is  n't  only  the  stage  hero  that  she 
reveres.  She  has  seen  and  talked  with  the 
private  you." 

"  For  four  minutes,  in  my  lumbering 
French!  Much  that  counts,  against  all  your 
ecstatics.  My  high  birth,  my  exile,  my  con 
secrated  purpose — the  Lord  alone  that  made 
you  knows  where  your  imagination  stops. 
I  'm  sorry  for  that  little  girl.  She  's  been 
gold-bricked. 

"A  history  one  thumping  lie, 

A  name  that  was  n't  true — 
No  more  of  me  you  knew,  my  love, 
No  more  of  me  you  knew." 


152  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

He  broke  off  singing  to  laugh,  then 
straightway  to  grow  grave  at  sight  of  Denys's 
face. 

"Denys,  you  think  I  'm  a  brute  to  laugh, 
but  I  should  be  a  fatuous  fool  if  I  took  it  se 
riously." 

"  It  is  serious." 

"No,  my  son.  Unpleasant,  mortifying, 
even  a  little  disgraceful,  perhaps,  but  not  se 
rious.  This  girl's  fancy  is  taken  with  a  per 
fectly  imaginary  being.  When  she  finds 
there  is  no  such  person,  she  's  all  over  it,  and 
no  harm  done." 

"Maurice,  don't  you  see?  Though  I  may 
have  set  her  dreaming  of  Tolna,  now  she 
knows  you.  It 's  no  vague  dream  now.  It 's 
the  real  you." 

"  Denys,  don't  you  see — but  honestly,  I  be 
lieve  you  don't!  You  've  proclaimed  this 
Tolna  myth  till  I  don't  believe  you  realize  that 
it  is  a  myth.  You  don't  know  where  the  truth 
stops  and  fancy  begins.  You  never  plainly 
acknowledge  to  yourself  that  the  Magyar  no 
ble,  the  inspired  genius,  the  exalted  patriot, 
the  remote,  mysterious,  irreproachable,  unap 
proachable  Tolna,  is  a  flippant  young  Yan 
kee  with  a  slangy  tongue  and  an  eye  to  the 
main  chance," 


MR.  ALDEN  WAKES          153 

"  Because  you  Ve  no  right  to  be  that — you 
can't  remain  that ! "  Denys  protested  hotly. 
"  I  have  told  you  that  I  created  Tolna  because 
there  ought  to  be  a  Tolna.  As  every  old 
house  demands  its  ghost,  as  every  cliff  has  its 
lover's  leap,  every  church  its  miracle,  so  your 
romantic  aspect  cried  aloud  for  the  legend  to 
make  it  glorious.  An  unromantic  musician! 
The  thing  is  disgraceful !  As  well  a  cowardly 
soldier,  a  sailor  sick  at  sea.  There  was  no 
harm  in  it,  Maurice ;  no  wrong  whatsoever.  'I 
did  it  not  half  so  much  to  cheat  the  public  as 
to  satisfy  my  own  sense  of  the  fitness  of 
things.  I  blushed  for  your  crassness,  if  you 
don't." 

"  'Lies  is  lies,  Pip,' "  Maurice  quoted  dryly. 
"  We  Ve  got  sweetly  snarled  up  in  this  one  of 
yours.  Though  I  do  count  myself  the  more 
to  blame,  for  I  always  thought  the  Tolna 
business  shady.  But  for  the  sake  of  peace, 
and  for  fun  too,  I  let  you  go  on  with  it.  Such 
giving-in  is  meaner  than  cheerful  go-ahead 
crime  for  crime's  sake,  like  yours." 

"  Then  if  you  take  the  blame,  Maurice, 
make  the  atonement." 

"  Say  in  English  what  you  mean." 

"  There  's  only  one  possible  course," 


154  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

"  To  tell  her,  as  you  very  sensibly  resolved 
this  morning." 

"  We  can  never  tell  her.    It  will  kill  her." 

"  It  will  mortify  her,  perhaps.  Yes,  of 
course  it  will.  But  I  imagine  that  a  healthy 
anger  at  being  'done '  will  help  her  over  the 
shock.  She  '11  pay  us  both  out,  yet,  or  I  'm  a 
Dutchman.  That  girl 's  not  all  dreamy  eyes. 
She  's  no  sweet  Ophelia  to  lose  her  wits  for 
the  best  Hamlet  going.  She  's  got  spirit,  and 
a  temper  to  match  it." 

"  She 's  got  a  heart,  faith,  ideals.  She  has 
been  sheltered  from  every  rude  breath — she 
has  never  known  a  shock.  If  you  kill  her 
faith  in  the  most  beautiful  figure  that  has  ever 
come  into  her  life,  you  kill  the  roots  of  faith 
in  her.  Why,  this  is  her  vision  of  heaven.  If 
you  reveal  it  as  a  barefaced  cheat  to  get 
money,  you  murder  her  faith  in  God  and  man. 
You  whirl  the  solid  earth  from  under  her — 
darken  her  sun." 

"  I  darken  her—  Well,  I  like  your  cheek! 
Denny,  I  don't  take  love-affairs  as  seriously 
as  you  and  other  good  people  do.  My  Tolna 
experience  is  calculated  to  harden  a  man — 
make  him  either  a  coxcomb  or  a  scoffer.  But 
it  's  my  opinion  that  love  has  mighty  little  to 
do  with  the  average  love-affair.  That 's  just 


MR.  ALDEN  WAKES          155 

an  impulse  of  the  blood,  or  of  the  fancy,  or 
both.  This  girl  has  n't  a  real  love  for  a  real 
man.  She  's  got  a  brain-sick  fancy  for  a  fig 
ment  of  her  imagination.  When  she  learns 
the  truth,  she  '11  be  mortified  and  angry,  no 
doubt.  But  you  need  n't  talk  about  a  broken 
heart." 

"My  God!  don't  you  suppose  I  've  been 
over  and  over  this  hideous  tangle?  Don't  you 
know  that  I  've  tried  to  reason  like  you? 
Don't  you  believe  that  I  wanted  to  tell  her — 
I  that  love  her?  I  have  loved  her  since  the 
day  I  first  saw  her.  I  have  desired  her  for 
my  wife.  God!  do  I  want  her  to  love  you?" 

He  was  clear  of  all  his  tergiversations  now, 
speaking  his  heart  out  at  last. 

"Tell  her  the  truth,  Denys!"  Maurice 
cried.  "  Tell  her  to-night." 

Denys's  passionate  face  set  sternly.  He 
spoke  quietly,  but  with  the  confidence  of  in 
spiration. 

"No;  I  have  considered  every  course,  and 
I  have  decided.  She  is  never  to  know — "  He 
rose  suddenly  and  stood  over  his  friend,  face 
and  voice  wonderfully  moving  in  their  pro 
found  earnestness.  "Maurice,  if  you  feel 
any  gratitude  for  my  teaching,  any  affection 
for  the  housemate  of  a  dozen  years,  I  charge 


156  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

you  now  to  help  me.  I  care  for  what  I  ask  of 
you  now  as  I  shall  never  care  for  anything  in 
my  life  again." 

Maurice  answered  in  a  low  voice : 

"  What— what  do  you  want  of  me?  " 

"  I  want  you  to  be  the  man  she  thinks  you. 
I  want  you  to  love  her  as  she  deserves  to  be 
loved." 

Maurice  got  to  his  feet  abruptly. 

"Denys,  for  a  moment  you  had  me  half 
hypnotized.  You  're  crazy,  but  you  're  rather 
superb.  When  you  find  out  that  the  girl  you 
love  is  taken  with  an  impostor,  you  don't  ex 
pose  him.  You  don't  plead  your  own  love. 
You  kill  all  your  own  hopes.  You  propose 
the  most  colossal  fraud  in  history,  rather  than 
cause  her  the  momentary  pain  of  a  disillusion. 
It 's  magnificent,  Denys,  but  it  is  n't  common 
sense;  it  is  n't  morals;  it  is  n't  even  a  practi 
cability." 

The  fanatic  gave  way  instantly  to  the  man 
of  affairs. 

"I  have  thought  it  all  out  for  you.  Of 
course  we  must  admit  that  you  know  English. 
We  pretended  otherwise  to  save  you  from  re 
porters  and  the  raids  of  society.  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  we  have  spoken  it  together  since  you 
were  fourteen.  Fortunately,  I  have  always 


MR.  ALDEN  WAKES          157 

said  frankly  that  you  knew  no  Magyar,  hav 
ing  been  exiled  as  a  child,  cut  off  from  friends 
and  kindred,  to  be  adopted  by  a  chance 
stranger  in  a  foreign  land.  It  is  one  of  the 
pathetic  points  of  your  story,  that  with  all 
your  passionate  love  of  your  country,  you 
cannot  speak  your  father's  tongue.  You 
shall  never  be  tripped  up.  I  can  provide  for 
everything." 

"  Denys,  people  like  you  either  change  the 
map  of  Europe  or  end  behind  prison  bars." 

"  I  want  to  keep  up  the  Hungarian  fiction, 
because  if  she  finds  that  false  she  may  think 
you  false.  It  's  no  harm  to  pretend  that 
you  're  a  Hungarian.  It 's  of  no  consequence 
that  you  are  an  American.  Count's  son, 
cook's  son,  what  matter,  so  long  as  you  are 
the  man  she  thinks  you  are?"  Denys  was 
racing  up  and  down  the  room,  his  swift 
thoughts  driving  him.  "  We  all  love  the  uni 
forms,  and  the  flags,  and  the  music  of  the 
band.  But  we  love  them  because  they  tell  us 
how  brave  men  die  for  a  cause.  The  regiment 
that  did  n't  go  to  the  front  is  the  showiest  in 
town,  but  it  marches  through  silent  streets. 
The  outward  show  is  just  the  symbol.  We 
have  dull  eyes,  and  we  must  be  helped  to  see. 
Margery's  eye  is  caught  by  the  symbol,  the 


158  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

romance  of  the  Magyar  patriot,  but  what  fires 
her  heart  is  what  underlies  the  romance — the 
high  ideals,  the  unselfishness,  the  loyalty. 
You  can't  be  Hungarian-born — what  does 
that  matter?  You  can  be  Tolna— the  Tolna 
she  sees." 

"  What  of  it?    I  don't  love  her." 

"  Love  will  come.  It  can't  help  but  come. 
A  stone  would  love  her.  It  is  the  law  of  life 
that  we  love  whom  we  serve." 

"But  scarcely  whom  we  cheat.  Though 
you  might,  Denys.  You  could  marry  a  girl 
you  did  n't  love,  to  save  her  feelings.  You  'd 
make  it  a  sort  of  game  never  to  let  her  sus 
pect,  and  you  'd  enjoy  your  good  acting  so 
much  that  you  'd  be  as  happy  as  a  lark  all  day 
long,  and  end  by  believing  your  own  pretense. 
Whereas  I  should  feel  a  fraud  and  a  fool,  and 
sulk  like  a  surly  bear,  and  end  by  taking 
French  leave." 

"  Is  nothing  to  be  sacred  from  your  flip 
pancy?  " 

"I  Ve  suppressed  a  good  deal  of  it  for 
your  sake,  Denys,  because  I  see  that  to  you 
it 's  tragedy.  To  me  it 's  farce." 

"  Can  you  jest  at  a  girl's  pure  love?  " 

"  Denys,  if  you  wanted  to  rouse  all  my  cal 
lousness  and  defiance  and  bad  temper,  you 


MR.  ALDEN  WAKES          159 

could  n't  do  better  than  to  tell  me  of  some  one 
who  is  smitten  with  Tolna.  What  I  feel  for 
any  girl  who  falls  in  love  over  the  footlights 
is  sheer  disgust." 

Denys  turned  white. 

"Disgust?  Margery!  You  damn  your 
self,  not  her.  Your  vulgar  mind  turns  every 
thing  to  vulgarity.  Everything  high  and  fine 
you  smirch  with  your  own  commonness." 

Maurice  laughed  out: 

"  And  this  is  the  man  you  put  forward  as 
Tolna!" 


CHAPTER  IX 

NOT    TO    THE    PURPOSE 

TjWERY  morning,  unless  she  was  very 
JLj  tired  after  a  party,  or  unless  she  pre 
ferred  riding  or  skating,  or  felt  it  her  duty  to 
write  up  the  minutes  of  the  Girls'  Friendly, 
or  really  must  do  shopping,  or  see  the  girls 
who  dropped  in — every  morning,  theoreti 
cally,  Margery  took  her  violin  and  went  to 
practise  with  Hyacinth  Lawrence.  On  the  day 
after  her  talk  with  Denys  she  actually  did  go. 
She  had  heard  that  work  is  the  best  cure  for  a 
distraught  mind.  She  foresaw  that  she  might 
even  determine  to  confide  in  her  wiser  friend. 
Miss  Lawrence  lived  alone  in  a  dingy  but 
eminently  respectable  apartment-house,  just 
east  of  Fifth  Avenue.  Her  flat  was  tiny,  but, 
as  Hyacinth  said,  it  did  what  her  father's 
huge  Westchester  mansion  could  never  do— it 
expressed  her  individuality.  The  different 
styles  of  the  different  rooms,  and  the  fre 
quency  with  which  she  changed  them  all,  sug 
gested  that  multiple  personality  which  is  the 
despair  of  the  psychologists.  The  miniature 

160 


NOT  TO  THE  PURPOSE      161 

dining-room  had  fallen  a  victim  to  "  sincer 
ity,"  as  conceived  by  the  makers  of  "  mission  " 
furniture.  It  was  an  obstacle-race  to  get 
round  the  huge  chairs,  while  the  table  from 
which  Hyacinth  nibbled  reed-birds  and 
souffles  would  have  supported  an  ox  roasted 
whole.  Her  bedroom  looked  like  the  inside  of 
a  jewel-box.  "  The  soul  of  a  bedroom  must 
be  expressed  in  daintiness,"  said  the  soulful 
one.  Beyond  this  was  her  Japanese  room. 
Tokonoma,  kakemona,  makemona,  all  were 
here,  and  their  accomplished  owner  appeared 
to  know  which  was  which.  Other  furnishings 
there  were  none,  save  two  thin  blue  cushions 
on  the  matting.  It  was  Hyacinth's  habit  to 
receive  visitors  in  this  room.  Whom  she  liked, 
she  at  once  led  into  her  sanctum.  Whom  she 
did  not,  she  invited,  with  her  impenetrable 
gravity,  to  an  anemic  cushion.  When  she  first 
set  up  for  herself  her  unorthodox  gods,  curi 
osity  kept  her  door-bell  a-twitter  from  morn 
ing  till  night.  By  the  second  winter  it  rang 
only  for  her  friends. 

The  sanctum  was  the  one  large  room.  Built 
for  a  studio,  it  received  its  sole  light  from  the 
lofty  ceiling.  Hyacinth  disapproved  of  win 
dows.  She  pronounced  that  this  seclusion 
from  even  a  glimpse  of  the  whirling  world - 
11 


162  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

this  cutting  off  of  jarring  cross-currents, 
made  the  place  truly  a  sanctuary.  On  the 
pale-green  burlaps  of  the  wall-hangings  she 
had  painted  a  bold  design  of  tree-trunks  and 
spreading  branches.  Entirely  hiding  the 
chimney-breast  rose  an  Indian  tepee,  so  ar 
ranged  that  the  log-fire  should  seem  to 
smolder  in  the  middle  of  the  tent.  An  ivy- 
vine  painted  on  the  skylight  cast  leafy  shad 
ows  on  the  green  drugget.  A  long  green 
bench,  velvet-covered,  stretched  along  one 
whole  side  of  the  room,  the  rest  of  the  furni 
ture  being  made  of  cedar  boughs  with  the 
bark  on.  Sockets,  fitted  to  the  wall  against 
the  painted  trunks,  held  pine-torches.  For 
this  environment,  its  owner  arrayed  herself  in 
a  loose  robe  of  Lincoln  green,  belted  with 
silver  bosses,  her  magnificent  hair  falling  in 
braids  below  her  knees.  Seated  at  her  roomy 
work-table,  she  was  illuminating  on  vellum, 
in  strict  monastic  style,  Swinburne's  "  Hymn 
to  Proserpine "  when  Margery  arrived. 
Even  this  dearest  friend  might  not  come  unin 
vited  into  the  sanctum.  But  Hyacinth  flew 
to  clasp  her  in  a  rapturous  embrace,  and  con 
duct  her  along  the  cramped  passage  to  the 
door  inscribed  in  carefully  illegible  old  Eng 
lish,  "  The  Wood  at  the  World's  End." 


NOT  TO  THE  PURPOSE      163 

"  Dearest,  you  have  n't  slept,"  Hyacinth 
noted  at  once. 

"  Not  much,"  Margery  confessed,  balanc 
ing  her  hat  and  coat  in  the  crotch  of  a  tree. 

"  Do  you  regret  that  you  refused  Lord 
Charles?  "  asked  the  student  of  Yoga,  with  as 
much  interest  as  the  most  frivolous  butterfly. 

"  Decidedly  not.  I  don't  want  him,  or  any 
man,"  Margery  answered,  taking  the  violin 
out  of  its  case,  as  if  she  had  no  thought  or  time 
for  anything  but  their  practice.  Sitting  down 
with  the  instrument  across  her  knees,  she  went 
into  a  brown  study.  Presently  she  remarked : 

"  Hyacinth,  were  you  ever  in  love? " 

"  Only  once,  in  this  incarnation." 

"  And  what  happened?  " 

"  Mother  happened,  of  course! "  replied  the 
girl,  unexpectedly  dismounting  from  her 
transcendental  stilts.  "  I  think  I  '11  tell  you," 
she  went  on,  as  if  the  remembrance  still 
rankled.  "  He  was  my  music-teacher,  and  a 
composer — and  a  genius.  I  believe  he  has  had 
half  a  dozen  decorations  and  honorary  degrees 
since  then.  Among  musicians,  at  any  rate,  he 
is  a  great  man  now.  He  was  poor,  and 
mother  said  that  he  was  n't  *  religious,'  and 
that  his  family  was  '  common.' ' 

"  And  you  did  n't  hold  out?  " 


164  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

"  Nobody  in  our  house  ever  held  out  against 
mother,  except  Jessie,  by  fits  and  starts. 
Mother  never  contradicts  you  and  never 
raises  her  voice.  But  you  might  as  well  argue 
with  the  Pyramids." 

*  Yet  you  found  courage  to  run  away  and 
set  up  for  yourself?  " 

"  Oh,  yes.  But  I  was  ten  years  older,  and 
the  instinct  of  self-preservation  drove  me.  I 
was  suffocating  under  mother's  exhausted 
receiver.  Even  then,  though,  I  could  n't 
have  done  it  without  Jessie.  Norton  and 
Jessie  insisted,  and  even  mother's  determina 
tion  is  no  match  for  Norton's." 

"Poor  Hyacinth!"  said  Margery,  softly 
stroking  her  friend's  hand. 

"  Well,  darling,  it  did  take  the  taste  out  of 
things  for  a  good  while.  But  then,"  she 
added,  suddenly  mounting  her  stilts  again, 
"  it  was  kismet.  It  had  to  befall.  That  ex 
perience,  having  become  a  part  of  me,  has 
ceased  to  exist  as  an  experience.  As  I  lost  my 
love  through  no  pettiness  of  my  own,  I  am  a 
loftier  being  because  of  the  loss.  You  know, 
dear,  all  we  mortals  are  certainly  born  twin 
souls,  and  the  loftier  soul  that  is  the  true  other 
half  of  mine  may  not  have  been  his  whom  I 
loved.  It  may  be  at  this  moment  at  prayer  in 


NOT  TO  THE  PURPOSE      165 

a  Himalayan  monastery.  Or  it  may  be  but 
a  puff  of  vapor  on  the  Borderland  of  Con 
sciousness,  waiting  through  the  eons  its  call 
to  this  earth  again.  Or  it  may  dwell  in  human 
form  on  the  other  side  of  that  wall,  and  I  may 
never  find  it  out  in  fifty  years  of  life." 

"  Oh!  But  if  he  is  on  the  other  side  of  that 
wall  you  must  meet  him  sooner  or  later." 

"  Not  unless  the  Laws  of  Karma  will  it. 
If  it  is  written  that  we  should  meet,  he  might 
be  born  under  the  gum-trees  of  Australia,  and 
I  might  open  my  eyes  to  the  light  of  the  mid 
night  sun;  yet  through  jungle,  through  ice 
pack,  over  mountain  and  flood,  straight  as  the 
homing  pigeons,  we  should  come  to  each 
other." 

"  While  if  the  stars  said  that  you  were  not 
for  each  other,  you  might  belong  to  the  same 
Bridge  Club  and  play  at  the  same  table  with 
out  a  thrill? " 

Hyacinth  ignored  this  flippancy. 

"  From  that  serener  height  won  by  suffer 
ing,  I  am  able  to  see  that  my  sorrow  was  but 
illusion." 

"  But,  Hyacinth  dear,"  Margery  said,  after 
a  pause,  "  I  am  afraid  that  I  don't  understand 
exactly." 

"  Carbon,  darling,  may  be  the  coal  or  the 


166  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

diamond.  So  illusion  takes  opposite  forms. 
Crime,  cruelty,  suffering,  have  no  real  power 
to  hurt  us.  They  are  but  illusion." 

"That  's  beautiful!" 

"  But  we  must  never  forget  that  they  are 
not  the  perilous  forms  of  illusion.  Beauty 
and  happiness  are  the  most  subtle,  the  most 
destroying." 

Margery  felt  a  sense  of  insecurity,  as  if  the 
bench  on  which  they  sat  might  be  mere  illu 
sion,  the  room  a  fog,  and  themselves  in  dan 
ger  of  dropping  into  space.  Or  was  space, 
too,  but  illusion? 

"  Oh,  but  then,  I  don't  see  how  you  can  be 
sure  of  anything,"  she  protested. 

"  No,  dear;  you  can't  see  it,  yet,"  explained 
Hyacinth.  "  You  must  attain  to  vision. 
From  each  plane  to  which  you  climb  with 
bleeding  feet,  you  can  look  back  with  clarified 
gaze  on  the  mistakes  and  delusions  of  the 
plane  below.  I  thought  I  loved.  I  suffered 
because  my  love  was  forbidden.  But  when  I 
rent  the  illusion  I  perceived  that  all  was  ac 
cording  to  Law." 

"  Oh,  then  your  mother  was  n't  responsible, 
after  all?  " 

'  Yes,  in  a  human  sense.  She  was  the 
remorseless  agency  of  our  suffering." 


NOT  TO  THE  PURPOSE       167 

"  Well,  if  you  suffered  so,  I  don't  see  what 
comfort  it  is  to  say  that  disappointment  and 
loss  are  Law." 

"  Because,  according  to  the  same  Law  that 
seems  so  cruel  now,  the  soul  ordained  for  me 
is  slowly  but  inevitably  being  made  fit.  It 
may  be  his  whom  ignorantly  I  loved.  It  may 
be  another.  Perhaps  not  even  in  the  next  life, 
perhaps  never  on  this  planet,  perhaps  dozens 
of  lives,  millions  of  stars  from  this,  when  we 
are  fitted  to  each  other,  we  shall  be  joined  in 
the  perfect  whole." 

"  Hyacinth,  there  's  more  method  in  this 
mysticism  of  yours  than  at  first  appears." 

"  It  is  like  the  swing  of  a  pendulum.  The 
farther  it  swings  away  from  you,  with  the 
more  energy  does  Law  bring  it  back." 

"  But  I  always  thought  that  the  Buddhist's 
heaven — I  suppose  you  are  talking  Buddhism 
— was  Nirvana." 

"  In  the  final  state,"  the  priestess  defined, 
"  nothing  exists  but  Buddha.  Not  even  In 
dividuality,  not  even  Consciousness.  We  are 
as  one  with  Buddha,  in  perfect  peace.  To 
reach  Nirvana  we  must  rid  ourselves  of  all 
illusion,  and  whatever  is  of  the  senses  is 
illusion.  Greed  and  sensuality  no  more  than 
Beauty  and  Art." 


168  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

"  But  you  are  so  inconsistent,  Hyacinth. 
You  do  everything  you  can  to  foster  beauty 
and  art.  You  are  two  or  three  artists  your 
self." 

Hyacinth's  gentle  smile  pitied  Margery's 
crudity. 

"  I  suppose  there  is  no  one  on  this  earth 
to-day,  even  the  Mahatmas  themselves  (who 
are  as  far  ahead  of  me  as  I  am  of  a  savage) , 
but  I  suppose  not  one  of  them  is  within  a 
million  lives  of  Nirvana.  In  our  present 
state  of  being  we  can  hardly  even  pluck  at  the 
skirts  of  its  mysteries.  People  often  criticize 
Buddhism  as  vague.  Dear  child,  it  is  a  criti 
cism  of  their  own  finite  minds.  As  we 
climb,  the  view  broadens.  In  our  present 
state  of  being,  we  are  just  beginning  to  make 
stepping-stones  of  the  baser  illusions  that  are 
our  dead  selves.  In  this  stage,  don't  you  see, 
while  we  are  still  fighting  to  be  free  of  the 
grosser  sins,  the  beauties  of  nature  and  art, 
of  friendship  and  love,  are  our  greatest  help. 
When  we  shall  have  slain  all  acknowledged 
sin,  when  the  words  of  the  litany  cease  to  mean 
anything  for  us — then,  and  not  till  then,  shall 
we  be  enabled  to  perceive  that  all  which  we 
have  held  good  is  as  much  a  delusion  as  all 
which  we  have  held  base.  Then,  and  not  till 


NOT  TO  THE  PURPOSE      169 

then,  shall  we  have  strength  to  fight  Beauty 
as  now  we  fight  crime." 

"  Oh!"  said  Margery  for  the  fourth  time. 
Even  as  Clonclockety's  performance  on  the 
pipes  distinctly  suggested  an  air,  so  through 
this  fog  of  phrases  bulked  the  dim  outlines 
of  a  majestic  order  of  creation;  but  something 
—Illusion,  perhaps— seemed  to  prevent  her 
getting  a  clear  view  of  it.  "  Then  you  don't 
mean  that  we  must  begin  this  very  minute 
hating  everything  that  is  lovely  and  of  good 
report?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  darling.  Humanity  is  not  ready 
yet ;  nor  will  it  be  for  eons.  But  when  we  do 
reach  the  plane  where  Love  and  Beauty  are 
no  longer  help,  but  hindrance,  their  hold  on 
us  will  already  have  become  so  loosened  that 
we  shall  leave  them  behind  us  without  a 
pang." 

"  Like  first  teeth,"  said  Margery,  thought 
fully. 

Hyacinth  did  not  relish  the  comparison,  yet 
her  proposed  punishment  seemed  rather  in 
excess  of  the  crime. 

"  I  shall  read  you,"  she  was  threatening, 
"  the  Rig-Vedas,"  when  Margery  cried: 

"  No  dear,  don't!  I  have  never  been  able 
to  understand  the  books,  but  you  make  it  all 


170  THE  TRUTH  AEOUT  TOLNA 

so  clear  and  so  beautifully  practical.  If  I 
follow  you,  one  gets  everything  that  one 
wants ;  and  by  the  time  that  one  must  give  up 
one's  joys,  benevolent  Law  has  arranged  that 
one  should  no  longer  want  them."  She  rose  to 
fend  off  Hyacinth's  protests,  wandering  up 
and  down  the  "  wood,"  a  modish  dryad  in  a 
tailored  suit.  Smiling  to  herself,  she  mused: 
'  Yes,  I  like  your  religion.  But  a  million 
years  does  seem  a  long  wait  for  a  lover." 

Hyacinth  followed  her  across  the  room. 

"  Darling,  I  know  that  something  troubles 
you.  If  you  will  trust  me,  all  my  love,  all  my 
thoughts,  all  the  wisdom  I  have  gleaned  from 
saints  and  sages,  shall  be  yours." 

Margery  knew  that  the  sympathy  was  as 
sincere  as  its  expression  was  affected.  She 
pressed  her  friend's  hand. 

"  Hyacinth,  you  are  a  great  dear— when  I 
make  fun  of  you  so.  And  you  are  just  a 
mine  of  common  sense,  though  you  won't  con 
descend  to  acknowledge  it.  Yes,  you  might 
see  a  way  out  if  I  were  to  tell  you  just  what 
the  matter  is—" 

But,  as  Hyacinth  herself  might  have  ex 
plained,  it  was  not  written  in  the  stars  that  the 
confidence  should  be  made.  At  this  very 
moment  a  cheerful  voice  rang  out  from  the 
passage. 


NOT  TO  THE  PURPOSE      171 

"  She  won't  blame  you,  Bridget.  She 
knows  that  it  takes  more  than  you  to  stop  me," 
and  the  doorway  framed  the  jaunty  figure  of 
Mrs.  Norton  Burnham. 

"HELLO,  Nell!   Hello,  Madge!   My  stars!" 

The  newcomer  stood  still,  while  her  eyes 
traveled  round  the  sanctum. 

The  two  girls  had  sprung  to  their  feet, 
Margery  startled,  Hyacinth  with  a  spot  of 
angry  red  on  each  cheek. 

"Well,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Burnham,  "  aU 
you  want  is  the  robins  to  come  and  cover  you 
with  leaves." 

Margery  recovered  herself.  "  We  Ve  no 
wicked  uncle,  but  the  wicked  aunt  is  here," 
she  smiled. 

'  The  last  time  I  saw  the  place,  it  was  an 
Egyptian  tomb,"  Mrs.  Burnham  pursued. 
"  This  is  rather  jolly."  She  advanced  into  the 
room.  "Heavens,  Nell!  you  don't  mean  to 
say  you  burn  those  torches? " 

"  Certainly  I  do." 

"But the  smoke?" 

"  We  open  the  skylight  a  little.  You  would 
never  notice  the  smoke." 

'  What  do  you  do  when  it  rains?  " 

No  answer  was  forthcoming.    Apparently 


172  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

only  the  inner  circle  was  destined  to  know 
what  happened  when  it  rained. 

Mrs.  Burnham's  attention  was  now  fixed 
on  the  skylight  and  its  tracery  of  leaves. 

"  That  's  awfully  pretty,  Nellie.  People 
are  always  praising  my  original  ideas,  but  I 
think  that  you  Ve  got  a  great  deal  the  most 
originality  of  the  two." 

The  priestess  was  human.  Her  tone  soft 
ened. 

"  I  really  had  a  lovely  arrangement — about 
twenty  tiny  electrics  scattered  about  on  the 
outside  of  the  glass.  It  was  enchanting  at 
night— just  like  stars.  But  in  the  first  storm 
the  wires  broke  and  set  the  roof  on  fire.  The 
landlord  was  so  narrow-minded  about  it!  I 
had  to  take  the  whole  thing  away,"  Hyacinth 
explained  pathetically. 

"  He  's  lucky.  My  landlord  is  my  husband, 
and  he  has  to  stand  the  damages.  What  were 
you  two  doing?  Growing  your  souls?  If 
I  'm  as  still  as  a  mouse,  can't  I  sit  down  and 
listen?  I  Ve  always  wanted  to  know  how  the 
elect  talked  to  each  other." 

"  I  '11  tell  you  how,  dear.  In  private,"  Mar 
gery  said  sweetly.  Jessie  laughed  with  entire 
good-humor. 

"  That  's  a  shame,  because  I  don't  know 


NOT  TO  THE  PURPOSE      173 

anybody  who  needs  to  have  a  little  of  the 
higher  life  pumped  into  them  more  than  I  do. 
I  'm  in  a  vile  temper  at  this  very  moment. 
Kindly  look  at  that." 

She  drew  from  her  muff  and  held  up  a 
column  torn  from  a  morning  paper.  The 
head-lines  were  legible  across  the  room. 

MILLIONAIRE  WILL  WED 


Gotham's  Most  Noted  Bachelor  Surrenders  to  Hymen 

APPROACHING    NUPTIALS    OF    "WILLIE"    SMITH 
AND    MISS    HONOR    HAMMOND 


"  Jessie!  "  cried  Margery.  Her  dream  of 
Tolna  and  Honor  was  a  dream,  indeed. 

"  Most  of  it  is  in  the  form  of  an  interview 
with  him.  It  mentions  the  church  and  the 
date, — next  month,  if  you  please:  she  is  n't 
going  to  take  any  chances,— and  the  gratify 
ing  fact  that  he  has  given  her  the  largest  ruby 
in  the  world  for  an  engagement-ring,  and  his 
patronizing  intention  of  deeding  her  his  house 
on  Central  Park  East  and  his  estate  in  Caro 
lina.  Is  n't  that  ingratitude?  Why,  girls,  I 
made  that  fellow!  I  brought  him  up  by  hand, 
like  Pip. 

"  When  he  first  came  to  New  York,  away 


174  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

from  that  ridiculous  place  where  his  father 
made  his  money,  he  did  n't  know  enough  to 
get  out  of  the  way  of  the  trolleys.  He  wore  a 
soft  hat  with  a  frock  coat,  and  a  white  tie  with 
a  dinner-jacket.  He  did  n't  know  the  differ 
ence  between  '  Anheuser '  and  '  Tannhauser.' 
I  guess  he  thought  they  were  both  aldermen. 
He  ate  his  oysters  with  his  salad-fork,  and 
burred  every  '  r '  in  his  head,  and  never  wore 
gloves  when  he  should,  and  always  had  them 
on  when  he  should  n't,  and  said, '  Well,  I  must 
be  going  now,'  and  remarked  to  the  butler, 
'  No,  I  would  n't  wish  for  any.' ' 

"  And  you  probably  made  fun  of  him 
before  guests  and  servants." 

"  I  dare  say  I  did,  Ellen.  I  cured  him,  any 
how.  Madge,  he  used  to  write  to  me  on  pos 
tals,  answer  invitations  that  way,  and  leave 
out  all  the  '  I's.'  And  he  talked  about  the 
'drammer,'  and  his  'full-dress  suit,'  and  his 
*  momma,'  and  he  thought  that  to  live  at  the 
Waldorf  was  '  swell,'  and  he  'd  never  had  a 
valet  in  his  life." 

"  And  from  such  beginnings  you  made  him 
the  man  that  he  is  now  1 " 

"  Yes,  Madge ;  but  I  used  to  think  I  never 
could.  It  was  months  before  he  stopped  say 
ing,  *  Yes,  'm,'  and  calling  luncheon,  dinner. 


NOT  TO  THE  PURPOSE      175 

I  just  rolled  up  my  sleeves  and  went  at  his 
education,  day  in  and  day  out,  month  in  and 
month  out;  and  just  as  I  Ve  got  him  present 
able  he  goes  and  does  this!  " 

'  The  worm  turns.  I  must  say,  Jessie, 
I  sympathize  with  the  worm — and  with 
Honor." 

"  Honor  Hammond!  It  would  be  better  if 
it  was  anybody  else.  If  it  was  anybody  in  my 
crowd— Tottie  Mason  or  Pinky  Fraser— I 
should  hate  her  and  she  'd  hate  me,  but  she  'd 
copy  me  and  take  hints  from  me  and  scramble 
along  after  me  as  best  she  could.  I  should  be 
queen  of  her  palace  if  I  never  set  foot  inside 
her  doors.  But  you  know  Honor  Hammond." 

"  I  have  talked  to  her  a  number  of  times. 
I  don't  know  her  in  the  least." 

"  That  's  what  I  mean.  I  Ve  always  got 
along  perfectly  well  with  Honor,  but  I  'm 
nothing  to  her.  I  'm  horribly  afraid  of  her, 
just  as  everyone  else  is,  but  I  won't  let  her 
know  it;  so  I  butted  right  in,  and  called  her 
Honor,  the  second  time  I  met  her.  She 
does  n't  mind.  She  calls  me  Jessie,  but  she 
is  n't  any  more  intimate  than  the  Diana  on  the 
tower.  If  she  'd  take  the  trouble  to  resent  me 
we  might  be  friends  sometime,  but  she  won't. 
And  you  know  what  kind  of  functions  she  '11 


176  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

give.  Like  your  mother's,  Margy,  only  more 
so.  Just  as  refined  and  proper  and  dull  and 
distinguished;  only,  as  she  will  be  richer  and 
her  house  bigger,  they  will  all  be  in  propor 
tion.  Dinners  of  sixty  covers,  with  Paderew- 
ski  afterward.  Poor  Willie !  " 

" I  say,  *  poor  Honor! ' 3 

"  Poor  Honor,  indeed !  She  has  got  exactly 
what  she  wants.  She  won't  care  about 
Willie's  being  a  little  runt.  She  '11  have  the 
money,  and  that  's  what  she  is  after.  She 
has  n't  any  more  human  feeling  than  that 
chair." 

"  Once  I  thought  she  had,"  Margery  re 
flected  aloud.  "  I  thought,  the  other  night, 
that  perhaps  she  was  n't  really  as  conceited 
as  people  think;  only  bored  and  tired  out  with 
being  a  professional  beauty.  You  both  saw 
how  Monsieur  Tolna  had  eyes  only  for  her.  I 
made  up  a  nice  little  romance.  He  was  to  fall 
in  love  with  her  and  turn  her  from  a  marble 
girl  to  a  flesh-and-blood  one.  And  now  she  is 
perfectly  happy  with  Willie  Smith,  while 
Tolna—  Oh,  we  're  all  just  misfits !  " 

"  '  It  's  a  mad  world,  my  masters,'  "  Jessie 
pronounced  cheerfully.  "  One  of  the  maddest 
misfits  in  it  is  that  Nell  and  I  are  sisters  and 


NOT  TO  THE  PURPOSE      177 

that  our  mother  is— mother.  By  the  way, 
Nellie  dear,  she  's  almost  here." 

The  stately  Hyacinth  jumped  up,  looking 
very  much  as  if  she  wanted  to  hide  under  the 
table. 

"  Yes,  Nell;  I  did  n't  come  for  my  soul's 
good.  I  came  to  bring  mother.  I  think  I 
hear  her  step  now.  She  stopped  to  order 
camp-chairs,  while  I  ran  ahead  to  spread  the 
glad  tidings.  Nellie,  you  unfilial  girl— " 

Mrs.  Burnham's  chatter  broke  off  as  there 
entered  a  quiet  little  lady  in  elegant  mourn 
ing,  slender,  delicate  of  feature,  with  hair  just 
beginning  to  show  gray  threads.  Thirty 
years  ago  Mrs.  Lawrence  had  been  called 
"  the  Dresden  china  Beauty,"  and  she  was 
very  pretty  still.  She  was  given  dignity  by 
a  deliberation  of  movement  unusual  in  so 
small  a  woman,  and  her  speech  was  equally 
deliberate,  low,  but  so  precisely  enunciated 
that  she  could  be  heard  throughout  a  large 
hall.  She  possessed  a  wide-spreading  family 
connection,  and  as  she  mourned  punctiliously 
for  even  a  third  cousin  on  her  husband's  side, 
she  had  not  for  years  been  seen  in  colors.  Her 
black  was  always  so  dainty  and  becoming  that 
not  even  her  daughters,  decrying  "  mother's 

12 


178  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

fads,"  guessed  that  she  clung  to  it  for  econ 
omy's  sake.  Her  husband  had  devoted  his 
life  to  showing  Westchester  farmers  how  to 
make  agriculture  pay.  From  his  father  he 
had  inherited  an  income  reckoned  large  in  the 
father's  day,  moderate  in  the  son's.  Upon 
this  competence,  Mrs.  Lawrence  educated  her 
five  children,  kept  up  the  indiscriminate  hos 
pitality  which  her  husband  considered  a  coun 
try  gentleman's  obligation,  and  paid  the 
annual  deficit  of  the  scientific  farm.  If,  after 
all  this,  she  was  able  to  give  considerable  sums 
to  her  pet  charities,  she  proved  herself  a  canny 
manager.  She  had  one  servant  fewer  than 
her  neighbors,  and  her  house  looked  better 
than  theirs,  while  her  furnace  burned  less  coal 
and  gave  more  heat  than  any  furnace  in  the 
county.  The  wonderful  part  of  it  was  that  in 
none  of  her  arrangements  did  she  seem  to 
scrimp. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Ellen?  "  her  mother  said 
easily,  kissing  her  heated  cheek.  Margery, 
being  perceived,  was  kissed  also,  but  absently, 
for  Mrs.  Lawrence's  mind  was  full  of  other 
matters.  "  My  dear,  that  servant  of  yours  is 
extremely  slatternly.  She  has  certainly  worn 
that  apron  for  two  days,  and  as  she  says  that 


NOT  TO  THE  PURPOSE      179 

her  month  is  up  on  Saturday,  I  told  her  you 
would  n't  need  her  after  that.  As  it  happens, 
fortunately,  I  have  just  the  girl  for  you  at 
home,  and  I  shall  send  her  down  on  the  ten- 
thirty.  That  will  give  her  time  to  make  the 
beds  for  me,  and  she  will  be  here  to  get  your 
luncheon.  She  is  Jane's  sister,  but  I  should 
not  have  taken  her  had  I  understood  that  she 
was  so  young.  There  is  no  use  expecting 
young  girls  to  keep  steadily  about  their  work 
where  there  are  so  many  men  about  as  we  have 
on  the  place.  However,  Polly  is  such  a  good, 
conscientious  creature  that  I  should  not  feel 
justified  in  turning  her  off  till  I  had  found 
her  another  situation.  She  will  be  the  very 
thing  for  you.  She  is  a  faithful  housemaid, 
and  beautifully  neat.  She  is  not  much  of  a 
cook,  but,  living  alone  as  you  do,  that  does  n't 
matter.  And  Chambers  has  to  go  in  to  the 
early  train,  Saturday,  for  some  fertilizer;  so 
that  it  won't  be  an  inconvenience  to  get  her 
trunk  to  the  station." 

While  she  spoke  the  arbiter  of  destinies 
made  a  note  in  the  gun-metal-covered  tablets 
on  her  chatelaine. 

"  I  have  no  intention  of  taking  your  Polly, 
thank  you,  mother,"  Hyacinth  answered 


180  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

quietly.  "  I  am  quite  satisfied  with  the 
woman  I  have." 

"  We  will  settle  it  at  luncheon,"  said  her 
mother,  her  lifted  eyebrows  gently  rebuking 
the  bad  taste  of  discussing  family  affairs  be 
fore  visitors.  A  perfectly  polite  little  glance 
at  Margery  inquired,  "  How  much  longer 
does  this  tactless  person  intend  to  remain? " 

Hyacinth  seized  her  friend's  hand  and  drew 
her  down  on  the  bench,  with  an  imploring : 

"  No,  no,  darling.  Of  course  you  '11  stay  to 
luncheon." 

"  Yes,  yes,  darling.  Stay  and  be  a  buffer," 
Jessie  chimed  in,  taking  Margery's  other  hand 
and  squeezing  up  to  her  on  the  other  end  of 
the  bench.  She  went  on  to  explain  softly, 
while  Mrs.  Lawrence  was  busy  surveying  the 
room: 

"  You  see,  Nell  dare  n't  bluff  mother  too 
far,  or  mother  '11  make  dad  stop  her  allow 
ance  ;  and  mother  dare  n't  bluff  Nell  too  far, 
for  fear  Nell  will  join  the  Salvation  Army, 
or  turn  dancing  dervish  and  do  whirls  outside 
St.  Thomas's  while  the  congregation  is  com 
ing  out.  So  it  is  nip-and-tuck  between  them, 
and  sometimes  Nell  scores,  and  sometimes 
mother.  But  the  heaviest  betting  is  on 
mother." 


NOT  TO  THE  PURPOSE     181 

She  jumped  up,  shaking  out  her  skirts. 

"  Good-by  for  the  present,  beloved  family. 
Nellie,  I  offered  her  all  of  my  rooms.  I  did 
indeed.  It  would  n't  make  me  a  quarter  of 
the  trouble  it  will  make  you.  But  she  says 
that  I  am  too  far  up-town." 

Dragging  Margery  with  her,  Jessie  van 
ished  without  expounding  further.  Mrs. 
Lawrence  explained  in  her  gentle  voice: 

"  I  came  to  borrow  your  room,  Ellen,  for 
my  Conversion-of-the-Hindus-Society  meet 
ing.  All  your  furniture  and  that  tent  thing 
will  have  to  come  out,  anyway,  to  make  room 
for  the  camp-chairs,  so  that  they  don't  matter. 
An'd  I  dare  say  the  walls  won't  be  noticed 
much,  as  my  maps  will  cover  a  good  deal  of 
them." 

"  You  are  welcome  to  my  room,  mother." 
Hyacinth's  voice  trembled.  "  But  the  tepee  is 
clamped  to  the  chimney-face.  It  took  a  car 
penter  two  days  to  put  it  up.  It  can't  come 
down  without  tearing  the  wall." 

"  But  it  occupies  the  space  of  a  dozen 
chairs,— more,  I  think,— which  I  can't  spare. 
I  have  measured  the  floor  with  my  eye,  and  if 
we  have  a  full  meeting  we  shall  need  every  inch 
of  it.  I  would  n't  destroy  your  wall,  my  dear, 
to  cause  you  an  outlay.  That  would  be  un- 


182  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

fair.  But,  fortunately,  you  need  n't  have  the 
expense  of  putting  that  ugly  tent  up  again, 
for  I  can  send  you  the  over-mantel  from  the 
dining-room  at  home — the  handsome  one,  you 
know,  with  the  gilt  balls.  Your  father  had 
it  removed  to  put  the  new  portrait  there." 

Jessie  had  paused  in  the  passage  to  listen 
with  wicked  joy  to  this  colloquy.  But  at  the 
mention  of  the  dining-room  over-mantel  in 
dignation  swept  away  her  amusement.  She 
clutched  Margery's  shoulders  in  her  earnest 
ness,  and  pushed  her  into  the  bedroom. 

"  Look  here,  Margery,"  she  began,  eagerly. 
"  In%  the  three  years  you  were  away,  several 
things  happened  that  there  was  no  chance*  to 
talk  about.  I  happened  into  Norton's  life, 
for  one.  And  then  when  you  did  come  back, 
you  must  go  to  Lakewood,  and  Lakewood 
might  as  well  be  Europe,  as  to  seeing  your 
friends.  So  that  I  could  n't  tell  you,  and  I 
knew  Nortie  would  n't ;  but  I  do  want  you  to 
know  what  an  angel  he  is.  You  heard  mother. 
Well,  that  over-mantel  is  the  most  awful 
thing.  It  would  simply  kill  Nellie.  But  it 's 
just  of  a  piece  with  the  rest  of  it. 

'*  When  we  girls  were  at  home,  even  after 
I  was  twenty,  mother  would  n't  let  us  choose 


NOT  TO  THE  PURPOSE      183 

a  frock  without  her,  or  have  any  more  money 
than  our  car-fares,  or  leave  the  house  without 
saying  where  we  were  going,  or  ask  anybody 
to  afternoon-tea  without  leave.  Mercy  1  we 
could  n't  even  regulate  our  bureau  drawers 
as  we  wanted  them.  She  had  a  regular  system 
that  we  must  follow.  Nell  was  a  docile  crea 
ture  who  did  n't  rebel  even  when  mother 
broke  up  her  love-affair— for  no  reason  that 
I  could  ever  find  out.  Margery,  just  think 
of  it!  When  I  was  twenty-four  years  old  I 
had  never  drawn  a  free  breath.  I  was  n't 
allowed  even  an  opinion.  Oh,  of  course  every 
thing  was  polite  and  proper  on  the  surface. 
It  has  made  me  hate  propriety,  I  know. 
What  I  say  is  that  a  girl  is  just  as  much  a 
human  being  as  a  boy,  and  that  we  'd  better 
send  missionaries  to  the  soul-binders,  and  let 
the  foot-binders  alone  for  a  while. 

"  Understand  me,  Margery;  I  don't  under 
value  mother.  She  's  a  great  woman,  and  ac 
cording  to  her  lights  she  's  a  good  one.  It 
is  n't  her  fault,  because  she  was  made  so ;  but 
as  a  wife  and  mother  she  's  as  much  a  misfit 
as  the  rest  of  us.  As  an  enlightened  despot 
she  's  a  tremendous  success,  and  she  ought  to 
have  been  born  to  the  throne  of  Russia  in  the 


184  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

eighteenth  century.     Well,  she  was  n't,  and 
hence  these  tears. 

"  A  couple  of  years  ago  I  got  to  the  end  of 
my  rope.  I  simply  could  not  stand  it  any 
longer.  I  knew  I'd  have  to  run  away,  but 
positively  the  only  opening  I  could  think  of 
was  type-writing  and  a  place  in  an  office ;  and 
that  was  a  bad  lookout,  too,  because  I  can't 
spell.  I  should  have  preferred  a  hand-organ, 
but  it  would  n't  have  been  so  genteel.  Well, 
I  did  n't  know  a  creature  to  advise  me  except 
Mr.  Burnham,  who  was  an  old  family  friend, 
you  know,  and  a  great  business-man,  and  a 
regular  Santa  Claus  to  us  girls.  So  when  I 
got  a  chance  I  took  my  courage  in  both  hands 
and  told  him— not  much,  just  enough  to  show 
him  that  I  must  have  a  chance  to  breathe,  and 
was  in  dead  earnest  about  earning  my  own 
living.  And  that  blessed  saint  then  and  there 
asked  me  to  marry  him!  He  said  he  had 
always  wanted  to,  but  he  did  n't  think  it  fair 
to  me  because  he  was  twenty-three  years 
older.  Fair!  why,  I  jumped  at  the  chance; 
not  for  the  freedom,  nor  even  the  money,  as 
most  people  were  charitable  enough  to  say, 
but  just  for  Nortie  himself.  And,  Madge,  I 
don't  choose  to  take  the  sentimental  pose  in 


NOT  TO  THE  PURPOSE      185 

public,  but  I  worship  the  ground  he  walks  on, 
and  I  only  hope  he  '11  live  to  be  a  hundred." 

Honest  tears  wet  the  cheek  that  Margery 
bent  to  kiss.  Jessie  brushed  them  away. 

"  Well,  this  is  n't  business;  and  I  've  got 
forty  things  to  do  to-day,  every  one  first.  Oh, 
one  thing  more.  I  'm  awfully  sorry  for  what 
I  said  the  other  night  at  the  opera.  You  see, 
I  was  so  badly  broken  by  my  trainers,  in  the 
beginning,  that  when  the  rein  is  pulled  too 
suddenly  I  jib,  and  then — look  out  for  spills. 
But  really  I  'd  do  anything  for  you  or  your 
mother,  because  you  're  Nortie's  people. 
Margy,  I  do  hope  you  '11  find  some  little  ex 
cuse  for  me  now.  People  call  me  fast  and 
Nell  crazy.  We  both  ran  wild,  I  know;  but 
do  you  wonder? " 

Not  waiting  for  an  answer,  she  whirled  back 
to  the  door  of  the  "  wood." 

"  Nellie,  don't  you  let  yourself  be  trampled 
on.  If  mother  stops  your  allowance,  we  '11 
give  you  one." 


CHAPTER  X 

THE  CATASTROPHE 

TO  Maurice's  thinking,  the  incident  was 
closed.  Nothing  further  on  the  subject 
ought  to  be  said,  or  could  be  said.  But  next 
morning  Denys  returned  to  the  charge,  ear 
nest,  eloquent,  imploring,  as  certain  of  the 
righteousness  and  feasibility  of  his  scheme  as 
ever.  The  Irish-French  strain  raced  in  his 
veins,  urging  him  on  to  a  chimerical  self-im 
molation.  From  room  to  room,  from  hour  to 
hour,  he  pursued  his  victim,  pleading  his  cause 
with  a  fervor  only  heated  by  opposition. 
Ninety-nine  days  out  of  a  hundred  Denys  was 
the  pleasantest  of  comrades,  the  most  tactful 
of  housemates.  But  when,  on  the  hundredth 
1  day,  one  of  his  sudden  fanaticisms  obsessed 
him,  the  tongues  of  men  and  of  angels  could 
not  persuade  him  away  from  it.  Finally,  at 
luncheon,  when,  from  grape-fruit  to  demi- 
tasse,  he  had  hurled  his  fire  against  the  blank 

186 


THE  CATASTROPHE          187 

wall  of  Maurice's  silence,  exasperation  drove 
his  victim  to  a  last  protest. 

"  Oh,  drop  it,  Denny!  What  is  the  use? 
You  and  I  see  things  too  differently  even  to 
understand  each  other,  let  alone  convince  each 
other.  What  appears  to  you  pure  nobility 
seems  to  me  pure  nonsense,  and  rather  revolt 
ing  nonsense  at  that.  Call  me  a  hopeless  clod, 
and  resign  yourself." 

"  I  call  myself  the  hopeless  clod.  If  I 
could  speak  to  you  as  my  conviction  would, 
but  my  dull  tongue  cannot,  I  could  make  you 
know  what  is  right  as  I  know  it  myself." 

"  Denys,  if  you  really  think  it  a  golden  deed 
for  a  man  to  marry  a  woman  he  does  n't  love, 
for  the  sake  of  her  happiness, — which  of 
course  no  living  man  would  do,  or  make  her 
happy  if  he  did  do — " 

"  I  do  call  it  a  golden  deed — a  service  a 
man  might  be  proud  to  give  his  life  to !  I  am 
no  saint  or  hero,  but  I  would  do  it  and  feel 
that  I  crowned  my  life !  " 

"  In  that  case,  Denys,  your  duty  is  plain. 
You  know  a  good,  unselfish  woman  deserving 
of  all  happiness.  She  is  not  precisely  beauti 
ful,  she  is  not  precisely  young;  but  that  only 
makes  her  need  of  sunshine  the  greater,  your 
sacrifice  the  nobler.  Think  of  Miss  Banks, 


188  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

middle-aged  and  lonely,  eking  out  a  scanty 
living  by  type-writing  your  verses  at  three 
cents  a  sheet!  Think  of  her  ease  and  happi 
ness  as  Mrs.  Denys  Alden!  " 

Denys  pushed  back  his  chair  and  strode 
into  the  hall  without  a  word.  Maurice  fol 
lowed,  chuckling.  "  The  suggestion  does  n't 
seem  to  appeal  to  you?  " 

4  The  cases  are  in  no  way  parallel." 
'  They  are  precisely  parallel.  True,  the 
little  lady  has  many  attractions.  As  you  hap 
pen  to  be  in  love  with  her,  you  think  that 
makes  a  difference.  But  I  had  just  as  soon 
propose  to  Miss  Banks." 

As  always,  Denys  went  with  his  star  to  the 
opera,  yet  one  restraint  his  tongue  knew.  He 
would  not  argue  with  the  tenor  in  the  midst 
of  his  work.  After  a  rather  cursory  inspec 
tion  of  Maurice's  make-up,  he  spent  his  even 
ing  in  the  audience,  which  enabled  the  tenor 
to  hold  an  unsuperintended  interview  with 
Hirt,  his  impresario.  Denys's  absence  afforded 
opportunity  also  to  the  valet,  Fran9ois,  who 
had  been  vainly  endeavoring  all  day  to  catch 
his  master  alone.  As  he  dressed  Tolna  for 
the  second  act,  he  burst  into  an  incoherent  tale 
of  woe  and  fear— how  he  could  not  but  suspect 


THE  CATASTROPHE          189 

Monsieur  Aldanne  (for  this  reason,  and  that, 
and  the  other)  of  the  evil  eye;  how,  being 
obliged  to  venture  into  that  gentleman's 
room  alone  at  night,  he  had  made  the  sign  of 
the  horns  for  safety,  and  how  Monsieur 
Aldanne  had  seen  it  and  cursed  him.  Not  for 
milliards— nay,  more,  not  for  love  of  Mon 
sieur  Tolna — would  Fran9ois  sleep  another 
night  under  the  same  roof  with  Monsieur 
Aldanne.  He  would  sacrifice  his  month's 
wages,  if  monsieur  so  decreed,  but  stay  the 
night— no,  he  could  not. 

"  Then  you  need  not,"  his  master  returned 
amiably.  He  recognized  the  difficulty  as  of 
nobody's  making  but  his  own;  while  Fran- 
9ois's  sudden  defection  suited  his  present 
plans.  "  I  will  pay  you  here,  to-night,  and 
you  may  go." 

"  Monsieur  is  good.  But" — anxiety  again 
clouded  Francis's  face— "does  monsieur  do 
well  to  run  such  risk  himself?  It  was  because 
monsieur  warned  me  of  Monsieur  Aldanne's 
cruelty  to  himself,  that  I  first  discovered 
Monsieur  Aldanne's  powers.  Monsieur,  per 
haps,  even,  he  does  not  mean  harm— some 
who  have  the  evil  eye  mean  no  evil,  but  are 
cursed  by  the  devil  to  do  evil.  Monsieur, 
leave  Monsieur  Aldanne,  for  the  love  of  God. " 


190  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

"  I  do  leave  him,"  Maurice  solemnly  an 
swered.  "  Yet  I  go  but  to  return.  There  is 
no  safety  in  flight.  I  must  return  to  battle 
the  power  that  besets  me.  I  must  conquer  it, 
or  forever  yield!" 

He  brought  his  voice  from  the  depths,  wav 
ing  his  arms  wildly.  Francois,  his  few  wits 
overawed  to  numbness,  meekly  said,  "  Yes, 
monsieur.  The  wig  slips,  monsieur." 

Never  had  he  put  on  his  master's  street 
garments  so  quickly  as  at  the  close  of  that 
evening's  performance,  so  hurried  was  he  by 
monsieur's  eager  haste.  Snatching  his  hat, 
his  overcoat  half  on,  Maurice  turned  to  the 
door. 

"  Francois,  wait  till  Monsieur  Alden  comes, 
and  give  him  this  note.  I  have  n't  money 
enough  with  me  to  pay  you  your  wages  to 
night  and  give  you  the  present  I  intend.  I 
shall  be  away  till  Monday  night.  Come  to  the 
house  Tuesday,  and  I  will  make  it  right  for 
you." 

Afraid  though  he  was  of  the  evil  eye,  Fran 
cois  yet  waited,  faithful  to  his  trust,  till  the 
night-watchman,  coming  to  put  out  the  lights, 
reported  that  Mr.  Alden  had  left  the  place 
sometime  before.  Not  for  worlds  would 
Fra^ois  follow  him  to  his  own  house,  in  the 


THE  CATASTROPHE          191 

dead  of  night,  with  no  Monsieur  Tolna  there 
to  protect  him.  Bestowing  the  note  in  his  vest 
pocket,  he  betook  himself  for  shelter  to  his 
cousin  the  caterer. 

Denys,  returning  from  the  auditorium,  had 
been  just  in  time  to  catch  sight  of  Maurice's 
back  disappearing  through  the  stage  door. 
Following,  he  was  amazed  to  perceive  his 
charge  striding  rapidly  along  Fortieth  Street 
toward  Broadway.  His  first  impulse  was  to 
follow,  so  unprecedented  was  it  for  Maurice 
to  walk,  and  by  himself.  But  he  knew  that 
no  harm  could  come  of  such  a  prank  before 
midnight,  with  the  theater  crowds  in  the 
streets ;  and  he,  no  less  than  Maurice,  desired 
to  be  alone. 

Even  now,  he  had  not  resigned  himself  to 
the  failure  of  his  plan.  He  possessed — or  was 
possessed  by — the  Napoleonic  conviction  that 
whatever  he  planned  was  not  only  righteous 
ness,  but  fate.  Such  self-confidence,  if  own 
brother  to  genius,  is  at  least  cousin  to  mad 
ness.  To  his  mind,  Margery's  whole  future 
depended  solely  on  his  efforts  in  her  behalf. 
It  did  not  occur  to  him  that  if  he  failed  her  she 
would  at  least  be  as  well  off  as  some  millions 
of  other  girls  who  must  struggle  through  their 
love-affairs  with  no  Denys  Alden  to  play 


192  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

providence  for  them.  Perfectly  sure  of  his 
power,  he  had  undertaken  to  offer  her  her 
life's  happiness  on  a  salver.  Maurice's  rebel 
lion  affected  him  much  as  the  oncoming  waves 
affected  King  Canute.  Disbelieving  his  own 
senses,  he  declared  that  this  thing  could  not 
be. 

Ever  since  he  had  adopted  his  ward,  he  had 
received  from  him  unquestioning  obedience. 
He  had  rescued  the  orphaned  lad  from  the 
necessity  of  becoming  somebody's  errand-boy ; 
he  had  fed  and  clothed  and  educated  him,  and 
fitted  him  for  a  well-paying  profession.  To 
Maurice  it  was  obvious  from  the  first  that  he 
was  bound  to  make  a  return  of  diligence  in 
the  studies  his  friend  decreed.  Only  a  slob 
(his  own  perhaps  too  forcible  word)  would 
try  to  shirk  such  an  obligation.  Later,  when 
they  were  no  longer  man  and  boy,  but  men 
together,  no  large  point  of  issue  had  ever 
arisen  between  them,  and  on  small  points  it 
was  always  Maurice  who  yielded.  Details — 
the  hour  of  a  meal,  the  shade  of  a  costume,  the 
date  of  a  journey— were  matters  of  great  con 
sequence  to  Denys,  of  great  indifference  to 
Maurice,  who  fell  into  his  friend's  busy  ar 
rangements  as  a  matter  of  course.  To  Denys 
it  was  a  matter  of  course  that  Telemachus 


THE  CATASTROPHE          193 

should  continue  to  be  guided  by  the  larger 
experience  and  wisdom  of  his  Mentor.  He 
had  affirmed  that  loss  of  faith  in  Tolna  would 
whirl  the  solid  earth  from  under  Margery. 
Whatever  the  truth  about  Margery,  the 
phrase  very  accurately  described  his  own  sen 
sations.  The  world  seemed  topsyturvy  to 
him.  If  Maurice  could  fail  him,  what  was 
left  to  believe  in? 

Entering  his  own  house  with  his  latch-key, 
he  found  a  bright  fire  in  the  library,  the  easy- 
chairs  drawn  up  by  the  little  supper-table,  the 
two  smoking- jackets  laid  out.  That  Maurice 
was  not  there  caused  Denys  no  uneasiness,  as 
the  automobile  would  naturally  have  beaten 
the  pedestrian  home.  To  escape  further  talk, 
he  betook  himself  immediately  to  bed,  where 
he  lay  broad  awake,  listening  like  an  anxious 
wife  for  the  closing  of  the  front  door. 

It  seemed  to  him  that  Maurice  was  taking 
an  unconscionable  time  to  walk  the  half-dozen 
blocks  between  the  opera-house  and  home,  but 
he  reflected  that  any  unmeasured  period  of 
waiting  appears  much  longer  than  it  is.  At 
length  he  heard  soft  steps  on  the  stairs,  whis 
pering  in  the  hall.  Relieved  in  mind  that 
Maurice  and  the  valet  were  come,  he  was 
settling  himself  to  sleep  when  he  recognized 


13 


194  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

the  voices  of  the  two  Japanese  servants,  and 
called  out  to  know  what  they  did. 

"  I  sink  gentlemens  no  come,"  the  boy 
explained,  in  a  bright  tone  of  satisfaction  that 
his  masters  were  returned.  "  Nobody  ring  for 
me,  nobody  make  noise— Gichera  frightened." 

"  What  time  is  it,  Gichera? " 

"Tsoo  o'cock." 

It  was  indeed  after  two,  as  Denys's  hastily 
struck  match  showed  him.  Jumping  up,  he 
ran  from  room  to  room,  from  floor  to  floor, 
flashing  on  all  the  lights  and  crying  on  "Mau 
rice!  Maurice!" 

Till  the  search  proved  it,  he  could  not  be 
lieve  that  the  boy  was  not  sulking  somewhere 
in  the  house.  It  had  never  once  occurred  to 
him — such  is  the  force  of  routine — that  Mau 
rice  would  not  come  straight  home.  In  all 
their  working  seasons,  he  had  never  spent  a 
night  away  from  his  warder.  He  was  not  a 
man,  he  was  a  Voice,  and  a  Voice  may  no  more 
expose  itself  than  a  diamond  may  be  left 
lying  on  the  sidewalk.  The  mother  of  a 
young  daughter  whom  she  has  guarded  and 
sheltered  every  moment  of  her  innocent  life, 
suddenly  faced  with  the  girl's  disappearance, 
might  feel  as  Denys  felt.  Flinging  on  his 
clothes,  he  bade  the  frightened  boys  heat  water 


THE  CATASTROPHE          195 

and  blankets  and  keep  strict  lookout  for  their 
master,  while  he  himself  dashed  out  into  the 
night. 

Every  other  emotion  was  forgotten  in  his 
fear  for  the  Voice.  The  mildest  antic,  inno 
cence  itself  in  any  other  man,  became  a  crime 
when  attempted  by  the  tenor.  Denys's  own 
experience  made  him  hysterically  careful  of 
Tolna's  throat.  He  was  prepared  to  see  the 
slightest  cold  seal  up  that  spring  of  melody. 
Had  the  delinquent  appeared  now,  he  would 
have  been  welcomed  like  the  prodigal ;  not  one 
reproach,  not  one  paternal  question,  though 
undoubtedly,  if  his  throat  showed  no  sign  of 
damage  next  morning,  he  would  have  paid 
for  the  night's  fright. 

The  opera-house  was  locked  and  deserted. 
Blankly  regarding  the  pile,  Denys  could  not 
imagine  why  he  had  not  expected  this. 

"  I  must  be  going  crazy,"  he  told  himself, 
pushing  back  the  elf-lock,  which  instantly  fell 
forward  again. 

Then  began  what  he  knew  should  have 
begun  two  hours  ago,  a  search  of  the  whole 
neighborhood,  from  the  most  dazzling  res 
taurant  of  Broadway  to  the  cheapest  all-night 
house  of  Sixth  Avenue.  He  even  made  his 
resolute  way  through  the  side-doors  of  sa- 


196  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

loons,  wherever  a  beam  of  light  or  a  murmur 
of  voices  defied  the  law.  So  often  he  followed 
misleading  clues  that  he  seemed  to  himself  a 
new  Flying  Dutchman,  fated  to  beat  forever 
the  shores  of  the  Tenderloin,  as  doggedly,  as 
fruitlessly,  as  Vanderdecken  the  Cape  of 
Good  Hope.  Of  the  two,  he  thought  Vander- 
decken's  quest  the  lighter.  He  felt  as  if  he 
had  spent  all  his  past  and  was  doomed  to 
spend  all  his  future  walking  in  and  out  of 
phantom  restaurants  and  lifeless  concert- 
halls. 

Everything  grew  mechanical,  unreal. 
Everywhere  the  patrons  of  these  halls  of  en 
tertainment  were  neither  entertained  nor 
entertaining,  but  jaded,  spiritless,  automatic, 
like  the  shadowy  figures  of  some  oppressive 
dream.  As  he  moved  quickly  down  the  long 
rooms  and  quickly  out  again,  scanning  the 
faces,  the  faces  in  their  turn  scanned  him,  not 
with  his  curiosity,  but  with  comprehending 
incuriousness.  They  had  seen  too  many 
searches  for  the  wayward  to  be  interested  in 
this. 

One  slight  excitement  Denys  did  provide 
for  the  blase  Tenderloin.  It  was  very  late 
now — almost  the  black  hour  before  dawn. 
Men  and  women  who  owned  a  shelter  had 
sought  it.  The  early  milk-wagons,  the  early 


THE  CATASTROPHE          197 

shifts  for  the  factories,  were  not  yet  stirring. 
It  was  the  dead  hour,  if  any  great  city  really 
reckons  one. 

In  a  small  Seventh  Avenue  all-night  eat 
ing-house  he  found  a  lingering  handful  of 
men,  some  supping,  some  breakfasting,  some, 
perhaps,  with  no  other  place  to  go  to,  stolidly 
waiting  for  dawn.  His  eye  flew  to  a  table  at 
the  back  of  the  room,  over  which  hung  the 
heavy  head  of  a  tall  man  with  a  mop  of  brown 
hair.  Denys  was  down  the  room  in  two 
strides,  his  pouncing  hand  on  the  man's 
shoulder. 

The  fellow  sprang  to  his  feet,  overturning 
his  chair.  In  one  bound  he  stood  planted 
against  the  wall  six  feet  away,  shaking  like  a 
leaf,  his  wild  eyes  on  the  new-comer,  his 
labored  breath  coming  in  gasps,  his  hand 
fumbling  in  his  pocket,  helpless  to  draw  the 
pistol  it  sought  for. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  apologized  Denys. 
"  I  took  you  for  a  friend  of  mine." 

He  expected  an  avalanche  of  curses,  but  as 
the  reprieve  penetrated  .the  man's  dulled  brain, 
with  a  quivering,  animal  cry  he  dropped  on  a 
seat  and  lapsed  into  the  coma  from  which  he 
had  been  startled. 

Denys  went  out  as  unconcernedly  as  if  he 
had  not  seen  a  human  being  frightened  out  of 


198  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

all  likeness  to  humanity.    He  never  even  won 
dered  what  the  wretch  had  feared. 

For  the  twentieth  time  he  looked  at  his 
watch  and  then  mechanically  boarded  a 
Thirty-fourth  Street  car  for  home,  sickened 
not  more  with  the  sights  of  the  night  than 
with  the  stupidity  that  had  sought  Maurice 
in  such  places  or  company.  Though  he  pro 
fessed  to  pine  for  liberty,  Tolna  had  never 
evinced  a  desire  for  license.  Indeed,  his  half- 
humorous  complaints  of  the  slavery  of  his 
life  Denys  had  always  taken  as  wholly  humor 
ous,  that  enthusiast  being  unable  to  perceive 
that  the  life  of  a  musician  could  have  draw 
backs.  The  more  he  pondered  the  matter  in 
the  corner  of  the  empty  car,  not  with  the 
excitement  of  his  first  fright,  but  with  mature 
deliberation  and  in  the  light  of  his  knowledge 
of  Maurice,  the  less  reason  there  seemed  to 
suppose  the  disappearance  intentional.  The 
tenor  was  punctilio  itself  in  never  disappoint 
ing  an  audience.  He  was  to  sing  on  Satur 
day.  It  would  be  absolutely  unlike  him  to 
risk  a  hoarseness  now.  He  could  not  have 
gone  to  supper  or  to  spend  the  night  with  a 
friend,  for  he  knew  no  one  in  New  York. 
Reluctantly,  shudderingly,  Denys  was  led  to 
the  hideous  conviction  of  foul  play. 


CHAPTER  XI 

MISS  FANNING  MAKES  A  NEW  FRIEND 

MISS  FANNING  stood  in  her  den,  the 
big,  untidy  room  at  the  top  of  the 
house,  where  she  worked  at  her  violin  and 
played  at  painting,  modeling,  wood-carving, 
pyrography,  and  bookbinding,  to  all  of  which 
arts  she  brought  fitful  enthusiasms,  little 
knowledge,  but  much  force  and  originality 
in  execution.  She  was  holding  doubtfully  in 
her  hand  a  card  on  which  was  written  the 
name  of  Morris  Fordham. 

"  Did  he  seem  like  a  book-agent,  Annie?  " 
"  Oh,  no,  miss.    He  's  a  gentleman."    The 
maid  repudiated  the  suggestion  almost  with 
horror. 

Margery  smiled  a  little,  thinking  that  her 
notion  of  a  gentleman  might  differ  from 
Annie's,  but  she  had  curiosity  enough  to  send 
her  down-stairs  to  inspect  Annie's  ideal.  Her 
sense  that  it  was  not  quite  convendble  to  see 
a  total  stranger,  presenting  himself  without 

199 


200  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

introduction  or  explanation,  led  her  to  assume 
a  dignity  positively  repellant,  as  if  she  sus 
pected  the  young  man  before  her  of  being  not 
only  a  book-agent,  but  a  sneak-thief. 

"Mr.— er— Fordham?"  She  read  the 
name  from  the  card,  with  the  effect  of  consid 
ering  it  an  extremely  plebeian  one.  '  You 
wished  to  see  me?  " 

1  Yes,  Miss  Fanning,"  the  visitor  rejoined, 
not  at  all  overawed  by  her  haughtiness.  "  I 
have  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  in  your 
own  drawing-room  before,  and  very  recently, 
though  evidently  you  don't  remember  me." 

She  looked  him  over, — close-cropped  dark 
head,  smiling  eyes,  erect  figure  in  its  well-bred 
morning  suit, — utterly  puzzled  by  a  sense  of 
familiarity  yet  difference. 

'  Your  voice  seems  familiar,"  she  hesitated, 
"  and  your  face— yes,  I  know  that  I  have  met 
you,  but  I  have  to  confess  that  I  can't  think 
when  or  where.  Surely  you  have  never  been 
in  this  house  as  our  guest?  " 

He  laughed  out. 

"It  's  a  reassurance  to  hear  you  say  that, 
Miss  Fanning.  But  don't  think  me  rude  if  I 
contradict  and  insist  that  I  had  a  delightful 
little  talk  with  you  at  the  musicale  the  other 
night." 


A  NEW  FRIEND  MADE      201 

Suddenly  she  saw  what  likeness  had  bewil 
dered  her.  This  man's  hair  was  cropped  like 
a  convict's,  while  Tolna's  had  waved  over  his 
forehead  and  about  his  ears.  Tolna's  eyes 
were  somber;  this  man's  were  twinkling  with 
fun.  This  man's  face  seemed  younger, 
squarer,  possibly  plainer  than  the  distin 
guished  Tolna's,  but  the  likeness  was  remark 
able.  Margery  started  back  with  the  intention 
of  ringing  the  bell  and  ordering  the  man 
shown  out. 

"  You  are  trying  to  personate  Monsieur 
Tolna!  "  she  accused  him. 

He  had  the  effrontery  to  laugH  again. 

"  I  have  been  trying  that  for  some  years; 
but  as  my  success  was  not  satisfactory, — to  me, 
at  least,— I  've  stopped  now,  and  am  personat 
ing  myself,  Morris  Fordham." 

She  had  nearly  reached  the  button  of  the 
electric  bell. 

"  Mr.  Fordham,  I  cannot  continue  this 
interview."  Though  she  spoke  bravely,  her 
voice  shook.  c  You  are  either  an  impostor, 
or  you  are  not  responsible  for  what  you  say." 

"  I  assure  you,  Miss  Fanning,  I  'm  not  a 
maniac,"  he  cried,  starting  forward  in  his  ear 
nestness,  before  which  Margery  retreated 
against  the  wall,  groping  for  the  bell,  not 


202  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

daring  to  turn  her  frightened  eyes  from  his 
face. 

"  Ring  for  the  whole  household,  if  you  're 
afraid  of  me,"  he  exclaimed,  on  his  side  mak 
ing  the  distance  between  them  as  wide  as 
possible.  "  Miss  Fanning,  it  did  n't  occur  to 
me  that  my  coming  would  scare  you  to  death, 
though  nothing  is  more  natural.  Please  let 
me  tell  you  that  I  am  Tolna." 

He  paused  a  moment,  looking  acutely  dis 
tressed  ;  then  his  face  cleared  with  a  laugh. 

"  Miss  Fanning,  suppose  you  Ve  just 
asked,  '  Je  voudrais  savoir  qui  est  ce  jeune 
homme.' '  He  sang  Gretchen's  line  in  com 
ical  falsetto,  to  break  into  a  torrent  of  rapidly 
ifnprovised  recitative : 

"I  am  Tolna,  the  ineffable  Tolna: 
I  was  born  in  West  Ninth  Street, 
In  the  City  of  New  York,  in  the 

County  of  America. 

My  parents  were  just  as  American  as  you  are, 
And  my  name  is  Fordham — Morris  Fordham, 

by  your  leave. 
I  was  boy  soprano  in  the  choir  of 

St.  Helen's, 

When  Denys  Alden  heard  me  sing. 
He  took  me  abroad,  and  he  taught  me 

music, 


A  NEW  FRIEND  MADE      203 

And  he  named  me  Tolna  to  make 

me  more  romantic, 
And  this  is  the  truth,  the  whole 

truth, 
The  unclothed,  ultimate,  utterly  congealed 

Truth  about  Tolna!'1 

Mrs.  Tanning's  drawing-rooms  were  large, 
and  he  was  singing  almost  under  his  breath, 
but  every  farthest  corner  seemed  to  pulsate 
\\ith  the  marvelous  voice.  One  almost  ex 
pected  to  see  the  waves  of  sound,  as  one  sees 
heat-waves  over  the  sand.  Margery  forgot 
her  fear,  forgot  her  astonishment,  as  she  lis 
tened,  the  acrobatics  of  Maurice's  voice 
dazzling  her  ears  as  showers  of  fireworks 
dazzle  the  eyes. 

The  singer  broke  off,  scarcely  breathed. 

"Miss  Fanning,  you  do  believe  I  'm 
Tolna? " 

'  There  are  n't  two  such  voices,"  she  as 
sented.  Then,  as  the  spell  of  the  music  faded, 
bewilderment  swept  over  her.  She  dropped 
into  a  chair  and  stared  at  him  in  dumb  aston 
ishment. 

Maurice  became  immeasurably  cheered. 
This  was  scarcely  the  expression  of  a — what 
was  Denys's  phrase?—"  a  soul  stricken  at  the 


204  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

root  of  its  being."    He  thought  that  he  could 
have  a  satisfactory  settlement  with  this  girl. 

'  When  I  made  my  debut,  we  thought  that 
I  'd  better  have  a  stage-name.  So  Denys 
scoured  the  map  of  Europe  till  he  found  the 
province  of  Tolna  in  Hungary,  and  he  took 
that  because  it  made  him  think  of  Talma. 
I  might  have  been  a  Rooshan,  a  Frenchman, 
or  a  Prooshan,  but  some  of  the  newspapers 
assumed  that  I  was  Hungarian,  and  we 
amused  ourselves  making  a  little  mystery  of 
my  nationality.  I  'd  been  partly  educated  in 
half  a  dozen  countries,  so  that  it  was  n't  easy 
to  tell  what  I  was  in  the  beginning.  And 
gradually  the  story  grew." 

"  But  why  not  proclaim  yourself  an  Amer 
ican?  Why  not  be  proud  to  show  them  what 
an  American  can  do? " 

"Why  not,  indeed?  I  'm  sure  I  don't 
know,  except  that  Denys  is  n't  cosmopolitan 
enough  to  approve  of  his  own  countrymen. 
He  thinks  that  a  man  who  has  the  misfortune 
to  be  born  an  American  is  morally  justified 
in  any  attempt  to  revenge  himself  on  fate." 

"  But  think  how  Americans  have  succeeded 
in  opera— Nordica  and  Eames  and—" 

"  And  a  dozen  more  of  the  only  sex  that  in 
America  is  apotheosized.  I  am  quoting 


A  NEW  FRIEND  MADE      205 

Denys,  Miss  Fanning.  He  maintains  that, 
while  the  American  girl  has  been  exalted  till 
her  name  is  a  synonym  for  wit  and  grace  and 
charm  the  world  over,  nobody  has  ever 
rhapsodized  over  the  American  man.  No 
soap-concern  gives  away  art  calendars  ideal 
izing  the  different  types  of  American  man 
hood.  There  is  no  Gibson  Boy.  The  wretch 

"  Living  shall  forfeit  fair  renown, 
And  doubly  dying  shall  go  down 
To  the  vile  dust  from  whence  he  sprung, 
Unwept,  unhonored,  and  unsung!" 

"  But,  Monsieur  Tolna— Mr.  Fordham,  I 
mean — think  what  an  opportunity  to  raise  the 
American  man  out  of  his  degraded  condition ! 
You  could  inspire  a  Fordham  Art  Calendar." 

"Heaven  forbid!  At  least  my  alias  saves 
me  that." 

Margery  suddenly  remembered  the  base, 
mercenary  wretch  that  Tolna  was.  On  recon 
sidering  her  interview  with  Denys,  she  had 
decided  to  acquit  him  of  all  part  or  lot  in 
Tolna's  fortune-hunting.  Undoubtedly  that 
wily  schemer  had  made  poor  Denys  believe 
that  he  was  disinterested.  Remembering  the 
misery  in  Denys's  face,  the  passion  in  his 


206  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

voice,  she  had  a  glimmering  of  the  truth,  that, 
believing  in  his  friend's  love,  he  had  denied 
his  own.  She  hardly  dared  accept  this,  she 
hoped  it  so  much.  One  thing,  however,  was 
uncomfortable.  Denys  was  incapable  of  any 
thing  base.  Hence,  of  whatever  fraud  and 
self-seeking  there  might  have  been,  Tolna 
stood  convicted.  In  a  voice  all  the  colder 
because  she  had  condescended  to  friendliness, 
she  remarked : 

"  I  must  say  that  I  don't  think  this  sort  of 
imposture  in  the  least  honorable." 

"We  began  it  as  a  joke,  Miss  Fan 
ning.  But  I  have  come  to  agree  with  you.  I 
should  n't  mind  crying  the  truth  on  the 
house-tops." 

Margery  saw  her  chance  for  reprisals  laid 
into  her  hand. 

"But  why  do  you  begin  by  confiding  in 
me?  "  she  inquired  sweetly.  It  was  now  her 
amiable  desire  that  he  should  propose  to  her, 
that  she  might  give  him  quite  the  worst  quar 
ter  of  an  hour  he  had  ever  known. 

He  looked  a  little  confused,  and  his  answer 
hardly  seemed  to  meet  her  question. 

*  You  see,  Denys's  idea  was  that  we  should 
always  keep  up  the  pretense;  make  it  practi 
cally  true.  Unfortunately,  my  system  has  al- 


A  NEW  FRIEND  MADE       207 

ready  got  more  of  Tolna  than  it  is  capable  of 
assimilating.  I  Ve  struck  for  shorter  hours. 
I  have  two  matters  of  business  to  put  through 
as  Fordham.  I  don't  sing  again  till  Monday, 
so  after  the  performance  last  night  I  ran 
away.  Denys  does  n't  know  where  I  am,  and 
I  can  enjoy  being  myself." 

She  thought  it  more  honest  than  was  to  be 
expected  of  him  thus  to  confess  to  her.  But 
doubtless  he  was  shrewd  enough  to  know  that 
he  could  never  hope  to  deceive  her  after  they 
were  engaged. 

Mr.  Fordham  went  on  rather  hurriedly. 
"When  I  lived  here  in  New  York  with  my 
parents,  we  had  the  prettiest  little  old-fash 
ioned  red-brick  house  down  in  Ninth  Street — 
fluted  iron  railing,  white  door  with  fan-light, 
wide  balcony  out  of  the  dining-room  covered 
with  crimson  rambler  and  wistaria,  and  great, 
deep  yard  with  a  summer-house  and  dove 
cotes.  My  father  died  suddenly,  leaving  his 
affairs  in  confusion,  and  the  house  was  sold 
at  auction.  Morris  Fordham  is  going  to  buy 
it  back." 

She  so  far  forgot  herself  as  to  yield  to  an 
impulse  of  sympathy. 

"  Oh,  I  hope  they  have  n't  taken  away  the 
dove-cotes  or  the  climbing  roses." 


208  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

'  Then  I  've  another  quest,  too,  and  the 
more  important  one.  When  I  was  a  small 
boy,  my  constant  playmate  was  a  small  girl 
who  lived  down  the  block.  The  house  where 
she  used  to  live  has  given  way  to  a  tall  studio- 
building,  but  I  intend  to  find  her." 

'You  have  remembered  her  all  these 
years?  " 

'  Yes."  He  was  smiling,  yet  speaking  with 
great  earnestness,  too.  "  It  's  a  true  case  of 
'  the  girl  I  left  behind  me.'  " 

Margery's  head  spun.  Was  he  no  fortune- 
hunter,  then  ?  Had  he  never  meant  to  propose 
to  her?  Then  what  was  Denys  about  ?  What 
did  it  all  mean? 

"  What  did  Mr.  Alden  come  here  to  tell  me 
about  you?  "  she  abruptly  demanded. 

"  He  came  to  tell  you  the  truth  about 
Tolna.  He  felt  that  he  could  n't  impose  on 
his  intimate  friends,  like  your  mother  and  you, 
if  you  allowed  me  the  honor  of  a  personal 
acquaintance." 

"  Oh!  "  said  Margery,  slowly,  the  situation 
at  last  becoming  rational  to  her.  One  infer 
ence  stood  out  like  a  lighthouse.  She  bespoke 
him  sharply:  "A  moment  ago  you  would  n't 
answer  when  I  asked  you  why  I  was  picked 
out  to  be  your  first  confidant.  If  you  please, 
why? " 


A  NEW  FRIEND  MADE      209 

"  Because — Denys  meant  to  tell  you  and 
did  n't,  and  I— I  thought— I  knew  he  wanted 
you  to  know." 

In  an  instant  she  was  standing  before  his 
chair,  as  if  to  make  escape  impossible.  He 
rose  deferentially,  as  she  demanded  in  a  por 
tentous  voice : 

"  What  has  Denys  Alden  told  you?  " 

"I  don't  understand  you,"  he  returned, 
without  meeting  her  eyes. 

"Monsieur  Tolna,  I  am  not  altogether  a 
dunce.  There  is  no  conceivable  reason  why 
you  should  come  here  to  tell  me  that  you  are 
in  love,  unless  that  stupid  Denys—" 

A  burning  blush  completed  her  meaning. 

"  I  see  that  I  Ve  made  a  man's  mess  of  it 
when  I  thought  I  was  making  a  star  play  at 
diplomacy,"  Maurice  ruefully  admitted. 

She  stamped  a  vehement  foot. 

"  Did  Denys  Alden  tell  you  that  I  was  in 
love  with  you? " 

The  girl's  anger  blazed,  but  a  twinkle  came 
into  the  eye  of  the  man. 

"  Did  he  tell  you  that  I  was  in  love  with 
you?  "  he  retorted. 

"  Yes,  but  I  never  believed  it.  I  thought 
you  were  a  fortune-hunter.  Did  he  say  that  J 
had  fallen  captive  to  your  bow  and  spear?  " 


14 


210  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

Before  her  wrath  Maurice's  smile  was  turn 
ing,  despite  him,  into  a  laugh. 

"  I  m  afraid  he  did." 

'You  need  n't  laugh.  You  should  have 
paid  me  the  compliment  of  thinking  that  I 
might  not  be  an  absolute  fool,  before  you 
rushed  here  to  assure  me  that  you  could  n't 
reciprocate  my — my  devotion." 

Maurice's  last  shred  of  self -control  gave  way. 
He  leaned  against  the  column  of  the  mantel 
piece,  with  peal  on  peal  of  laughter. 

"  I  c-can't  help  it,"  he  gasped.  "  You  ought 
to  be  apologized  to.  Oh,  I  do  apologize,  Miss 
Fanning.  But  the  whole  thing  's  too  ridicu 
lous!" 

To  her  surprise,  she  found  herself  helplessly 
joining  the  laughter. 

"  I  did  come  here  to  tell  you  as  gently  as 
possible  that  I  could  n't  reciprocate  your 
devotion,"  Maurice  choked  and  gurgled. 
"  Meantime  you  were  '  laying '  to  scalp  me 
for  a  fortune-hunter.  But  none  of  that  's  as 
funny  as  Denys.  Oh,  Denny,  Denny! " 

Since  it  was  impossible  to  be  angry  at  a  man 
with  whom  she  had  laughed  hysterically,  her 
ire  veered  to  Denys. 

'  What  did  Denys  Alden  mean  by  telling 
me  that  you  loved  me? " 


A  NEW  FRIEND  MADE          211 

"  What  did  he  mean  by  telling  me  you  had 
said  you  loved  me?  " 

She  flushed,  hesitated,  and  at  length  ex 
claimed  : 

"  I  could  tell  you  a  lie,  but  I  can't.  I 
simply  can't  tell  you  the  truth,  but  I  simply 
must.  I  would  rather  you  knew  me  for  the 
simpleton  I  am  than  think  me  the  kind  of 
simpleton  I  'm  not.  For  I  never  was  in  the 
least  smitten  with  you." 

"  How  you  do  rub  that  in! " 

"  I  have  to,  when  you  take  such  pains  to 
explain  that  you  never  fancied  me."  Her 
smile  faded  to  leave  a  face  of  pure  distress. 
"  Oh,  Mr.  Fordham,  you  won't  tell  Denys 
what  I  'm  going  to  say  to  you?  " 

"  I  will  tell  nobody,  Miss  Fanning.  But 
don't  say  it  if  you  feel  apprehensive." 

"  I  want  to  tell  you,  if  you  will  let  me.  You 
see,  I— I  felt  pretty  sure  that  Denys  cared  for 


me." 


"  I  never  knew  a  man  to  be  so  absolutely 
daft  and  imbecile  about  a  woman  as  Denys 
is  about  you." 

"  We  were  talking  of  you,  and  he  was  try 
ing  to  find  out  what  I  thought  of  you,  and  I 
had  teased  him,  but  I  had  n't  meant  to  make 
him  seriously  jealous.  Suddenly  he  burst  out, 


212  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

in  a  perfectly  agonized  sort  of  way,  '  Mar 
gery,  won't  you  answer  me? '  Of  course,  I 
thought  he  meant  did  I  care  for  him,  Mr. 
Fordham,  he  was  so  wrought  up  about  it;  and 
I  said  that  he  must  know.  Then  he  came  back 
in  the  calmest,  most  satisfied  voice, '  I  congrat 
ulate  Maurice.'  How  could  he  say  that  so 
easily  if  he  loves  me  himself? " 

"  Because  he  's  dead  game.  He  believed 
that  you  and  I  had  fallen  in  love,  and  he 
was  n't  going  to  have  us  suspect  what  we  had 
done  to  him.  But  he  is  bound  up  in  you,  Miss 
Fanning.  I  've  known  it  always,  and  yester 
day  he  told  me  so  himself.  I  dragged  it  out 
of  him.  And  besides,  nobody  but  a  man  who 
adores  you  could  contrive  to  give  you  so  much 
pain." 

"  It  was  pretty  bad  when  I  thought  that  he 
did  n't  care  for  me,"  she  confessed  candidly. 
"  You  '11  swear  that  he  does? " 

"  More  than  that— I  '11  bet  on  it." 

"  But  when  he  found  that  he  had  misled 
me,  why  had  n't  he  the  courage  to  come  him 
self?  Why  must  he  send  you?  " 

"Bless  you!  he  did  n't.  My  coming  was 
the  unhallowed  inspiration  of  the  moment.  I 
bolted  off  without  telling  him,  to  save  argu 
ment.  You  see,  Miss  Fanning,"— Maurice 


A  NEW  FRIEND  MADE          213 

could  laugh  now  over  what  yesterday  had 
seemed  an  outrage, — "  ever  since  he  discov 
ered  your  infatuation,  he  has  been  darkly 
resolved  that  I  should  marry  you,  under  the 
name  and  arms  of  Tolna." 

Margery's  whole  frame  stiffened. 

:<  What  ?  He  has  been  urging  me  on  a  man 
who  did  n't  want  me?  Of  all  gross,  hideous, 
revolting  things  to  do — " 

"  Oh,  my  prophetic  soul!  I  warned  him 
that  you  had  a  temper.  Why,  you  little  spit 
fire,  it  was  nothing  of  the  kind."  She  had 
but  expressed  his  own  opinion  of  yesterday, 
but  that  some  one  else  should  assail  Denys  was 
not  to  be  borne.  "  Denys  loves  you  so  much 
that  he  can't  consider  anything  but  your  hap 
piness.  He  puts  himself  out  of  court.  Do 
you  suppose  he  enjoyed  the  thought  of  your 
marrying  me?" 

"  I  shall  never  forgive  him." 

"  You  'd  better.  You  '11  never  find  any  one 
else  who  loves  you  a  tenth  part  as  much." 

There  was  a  pause.    Finally  she  said: 

"  I  wish  I  had  a  brother." 

"  I  'm  afraid  you  would  n't  stand  his  cheek 
as  amiably  as  you  stand  mine.  But  I  '11  give 
you  one  bit  of  brotherly  counsel.  There  is  n't 
a  man  in  the  world,  however  brilliant  or  tact- 


214  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

f  ul  or  devoted  he  may  be,  that  won't  occasion 
ally  perpetrate  something  so  coarse  and  stupid 
that  a  woman  wants  to  kill  him, — or  ought  to 
want  to, — like  my  telling  you  how  Denys  was 
determined  to  give  away  the  bride !  I  thought, 
of  course,  you  'd  laugh.  We  're  always  doing 
it.  You  just  have  to  go  into  a  nunnery,  or 
else  put  up  with  us." 

"  I  'm  going  into  a  nunnery.  How  else 
can  I  possibly  get  out  of  this  situation?  I  let 
Denys  go  on  thinking  that  it  was  you  because 
it  was  the  only  way  to  keep  him  from  knowing 
that  it  was  he.  When  he  finds  it  is  n't  you, 
he  will  know  that  I  must  have  meant  him.  He 
will  see  that  I  answered  before  I  was  asked. 
Do  you  suppose  I  will  let  him  think  that? 
I'd  die  first!" 

He  contemplated  the  case  thoughtfully. 

"Then  die  it  is." 

'  You  mean  that  he  is  bound  to  find  out? 
He  won't,  for  we  are  going  to  Japan  on  the 
next  steamer.  We  shall  stay  a  year  or  two, 
till  I  know  that  he  is  back  in  Europe.  Mr. 
Fordham,  I  told  you  what  I  felt,  because  I 
had  to,  and  somehow  with  you  I  don't  mind. 
But,  Mr.  Fordham,  I  mean  it.  I  will  die 
before  I  '11  have  him  know." 

He  looked  much  perturbed. 


A  NEW  FRIEND  MADE          215 

"  I  won't  tell  him,  Miss  Fanning.  I  can't, 
if  you  forbid  me.  But  you  're  not  serious  in 
meaning  to  put  half  the  world  between  you 
and  the  best  fellow  in  it?  If  he  had  n't  stated 
his  proposition  in  three  words,  he  had  stated 
it  in  actions,  time  and  again.  You  knew  it 
six  months  ago,  and  you  would  n't  let  him 
speak.  Surely  you  won't  torture  him  for  a 
silly  little  point  of  false  pride? " 

She  said  nothing.  He  hesitated,  then  went 
on: 

"  Miss  Fanning,  I  suppose  you  '11  be  af 
fronted  if  I  say  that  your  point  of  view  seems 
to  me  ridiculous.  What  disgrace  is  there  in 
giving  more  than  you  think  you  have  received 
or  giving  sooner?  What  is  that  but  a  splendid 
generosity?  You  can't  dole  out  love  on  requi 
sition,  as  a  stingy  housewife  doles  out  sugar 
and  tea.  Why,  it  is  n't  even  a  false  pride  on 
your  part  that  bids  me  hold  my  tongue.  It  's 
a  poor  little  old-fashioned,  conventional  van 
ity.  Just  realizing  what  that  dear  fellow  is, 
ought  to  have  knocked  it  out  of  you  by  this 
time.  When  you  women  really  want  to 
escape  your  gratuitous  heartaches,  you  '11 
bring  your  sentimental  codes  up  to  date." 

Having  shot  his  bolt,  he  was  rather  fright 
ened. 


216  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

Flushing  and  paling,  she  stood  long  silent, 
her  eyes  on  the  floor.  At  length  she  vouch 
safed: 

"Well,  I— we  won't  leave  town  till  next 
week." 

"That  's  a  nice  girl!"  he  cried,  wringing 
her  hand.  She  smiled. 

"  There  must  be  some  good  in  Denys  Alden 
— he  has  made  such  a  friend." 

"Some  good?  He  's  the  best  chap  going, 
heart  and  head  both.  Oh,  you  '11  see.  Will 
you  forgive  me,  too?  " 

"  I  did  n't  say  that  I  had  forgiven  him.  As 
for  you,  you  can  come  to  tea  on  Sunday  and 
tell  me  more  about  your  girl." 


CHAPTER  XII 

MISS  HAMMOND  FINDS  AN  OLD  FRIEND 

FOR  the  first  time  since  her  school-days, 
Honor  Hammond  felt  contented  and 
happy.  She  had  accomplished  her  destiny, 
and  she  felt  the  exhilarating  consciousness  of 
achievement.  It  was  not  precisely  Willie's 
money  that  elated  her.  It  was  the  feat  of  hav 
ing  secured  Willie's  money.  She  had  won  her 
spurs.  No  longer  need  she  fear  the  world; 
she  had  earned  her  peace.  That  she  was  not 
in  love  with  the  man  of  her  choice  troubled  her 
not  at  all.  She  understood  that  love  was  the 
most  delightful  of  emotions,  as  she  had  been 
given  to  understand  that  the  mango  was  the 
most  delicious  of  fruits,  but  one  seemed  as 
little  a  necessity  in  her  life  as  the  other.  She 
basked  in  the  consciousness  that  her  mother 
thoroughly  approved  her,  and  that  her  world 
admired  and  envied  her.  Her  radiant  face 
could  maintain  its  radiance  even  through 
Willoughby's  visits.  In  truth,  he  had  not  yet 

217 


218  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

become  to  her  an  individual.  If,  before  his 
proposal,  he  had  been  merely  a  bit  of  back 
ground,  since  that  moment  he  was  a  symbol, 
something  that  stood  for  freedom,  power, 
consequence.  The  man  himself  was  vague  to 
her;  she  could  not  have  told  the  color  of  his 
eyes.  If  his  hair  had  turned  gray  overnight, 
she  would  hardly  have  noticed  it. 

One  afternoon,  a  few  days  after  her  en 
gagement,  it  happened  that  she  was  alone  in 
the  house.  Her  mother  was  having  a  session 
with  their  dressmaker,  of  almost  sacred 
privacy. 

Willoughby  had  gone  up  to  Tarrytown  to 
see  "  momma."  None  of  the  girls  had  run  in 
to  talk  over  the  engagement.  Nobody  ever 
did  run  in  on  Miss  Hammond.  But  Honor 
was  used  to  solitude  and  preferred  it.  She 
was  rather  sorry  when  it  was  time  to  follow  her 
mother  and  accompany  her  to  their  quota  of 
teas. 

As  she  came  down-stairs  she  found  the  di 
minutive  buttons — Mrs.  Hammond's  econom 
ical  concession  to  the  World-Idea  of  a  footman 
— just  opening  the  door. 

"  Is  your  master  at  home? "  a  man's  well- 
bred  voice  inquired.  "  Mr. — Mr. — " 


AN  OLD  FRIEND  FOUND      219 

"  No,  sir,"  the  buttons  answered.  "  No 
body  's  in  but  Miss  Honor."  Stepping  back 
from  the  door,  the  boy  shifted  all  responsibil 
ity  to  her  shoulders. 

She  was  at  the  entrance  now,  facing  the 
stranger. 

"  You?  "  he  cried.    "  Do  you  live  here?  " 

She  supposed  him  to  be  one  of  the  many 
men  she  had  danced  with,  though  she  recalled 
his  face  but  vaguely.  Never  quick  in  social 
emergencies,  she  stood  waiting  for  him  to  ex 
plain  his  errand. 

"  Don't  you  know  me,  Honor?  " 

The  tone  of  his  voice  made  her  think  of 
Jefferson's  "Don't  you  know  me,  Meenie? " 
Association  of  ideas  suddenly  gave  her  the 
clue  to  answer  confidently: 

6  Yes.    You  are  Monsieur  Tolna." 

It  seemed  sufficiently  extraordinary  that 
Monsieur  Tolna  should  come  to  her  house, 
yet  be  amazed  that  she  lived  there;  should 
be  calling  her  Honor,  yet  look  hurt  and  dis 
appointed  when  she  recognized  him.  But,  as 
often  happens  with  shy  persons,  self-posses 
sion  returned  to  her  when  she  discovered  that 
he  was  even  more  unequal  to  the  emergency 
than  she,  and  in  his  turn  was  staring  at  her, 


220  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

helpless  and  distressed,  without  moving  or 
speaking.  She  smiled  hospitably. 

"Monsieur  Tolna,  are  n't  you  coming  in? 
Tell  Peters  to  drive  up  and  down  awhile, 
David." 

Beyond  the  pretty  drawing-room  with  its 
spindle-legged  chairs  and  claw-footed  cab 
inets  and  walls  hung  with  miniatures,  past 
the  pretty  dining-room  with  its  Sheraton 
low-boys  and  high-boys  and  old  samplers, 
was  a  sitting-room  at  the  back  of  the  house, 
through  whose  French  windows,  opening 
on  a  wide  balcony,  the  sun  poured  all  day 
long. 

This  room  was  not  conscientiously  Colonial, 
like  the  others.  Chairs,  tables,  and  book-cases 
were  of  the  black  walnut  of  thirty  years  ago, 
which,  in  this  sunny  room  with  its  white  paint, 
looked  less  funereal  than  black  walnut  gener 
ally  contrives  to  do.  The  simply  designed 
chairs,  picked  out  with  lines  of  faded  gilt,  bore 
covers  in  the  cross-stitch  tapestry  of  an  earlier 
generation,  most  beautifully  toned  by  time  to 
softest  olives,  pallid  blues,  and  ghostly  pinks. 
Both  heavy  Brussels  carpet  and  embossed 
wall-paper,  once  gay  with  large  pink  roses, 
were  now  dimmed  to  the  same  soft  shell-color, 
while  the  brilliant  note  in  the  room  was  sup- 


AN  OLD  FRIEND  FOUND     221 

plied  by  the  scores  of  blossoming  plants 
which,  on  antiquated  terraced  stands  of 
twisted  wire,  banked  the  wide  windows. 
Stately  steel-engravings  of  noble  Old- World 
buildings  and  bridges  and  of  Raphael's  mas 
terpieces  crowded  the  walls,  though,  by  some 
seeming  inadvertence,  one  or  two  oil  portraits 
and  a  few  frivolous  water-colors,  with  half  a 
dozen  still  more  frivolous  French  chromos, 
had  managed  to  push  themselves  in.  Flank 
ing  the  large  gilt  clock  on  the  mantel  smirked 
two  Dresden  china  shepherdesses,  while 
beyond  each  posed  a  self-conscious  "Rogers 
group."  Old-fashioned  without  being  an 
tique,  the  whole  was  a  jumble  of  incongruous 
parts  that  violated  every  rule  of  house  decora 
tion. 

Most  women  with  Mrs.  Hammond's  true 
artistic  sense  would  have  sent  everything  to 
auction  and  "  done  over  "  the  room  in  the  mode 
of  some  French  king,  or  English  queen,  or 
Turkish  vizier,  or  Spanish  missionary.  But 
that  competent  lady  was  clever  enough  to 
discern  the  meaning  of  the  conglomerate— 
the  misguided  but  sincere  struggle  of  the  '70's 
to  realize  an  ideal.  When  she  saw  fit  she 
could  soar  above  the  realm  of  "  smug  routine 
and  things  allowed,"  and  she  both  perceived 


222  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

and  respected  the  homely,  livable,  average- 
man's-taste  look  of  the  place,  which  her 
elegant  drawing-room  very  properly  lacked. 
She  had  bought  the  furniture  with  the  house, 
at  a  price  which  enabled  her  to  sell  most  of  it 
at  a  profit.  But  this  one  room  had  been  left 
almost  as  she  found  it.  Here  papers  and 
magazines  and  sewing  might  litter  tables  or 
floor,  and  here  might  come  the  friends  who 
were  subtle  enough  to  appreciate  her  appreci 
ation. 

With  an  unconscious  sense  of  the  fitness  of 
things,  Honor  led  the  visitor  not  to  the  imper 
sonal  drawing-room,  but  at  once  to  this  more 
intimate  retreat.  It  had  not  occurred  to  her 
to  think  him  an  impostor,  to  feel  afraid  of 
him;  and  though  she  could  not  guess  the 
meaning  of  his  visit,  she  assumed  that  it  must 
imply  business  of  importance. 

"If  you  wished  to  see  my  father,"  she  ven 
tured,  "he  is  never  at  home  before  six;"  and 
then  she  waited  for  him  to  disclose  his  errand. 

But  he  was  neither  looking  at  her  nor  listen 
ing,  in  his  absorption  with  the  room  itself. 
His  glance,  traveling  swiftly,  yet  seemed  to 
take  in  everything  before  he  strode  to  the 
window  to  stare  into  the  yard.  Then  he 
turned  back  to  study  in  detail,  it  appeared, 


AN  OLD  FRIEND  FOUND    223 

each  commonplace  object.  When  at  last  he 
met  her  gaze  she  was  astonished  to  see  tears 
in  his  eyes. 

"Nothing  has  been  changed— nothing! " 
he  cried,  with  an  almost  passionate  wonder 
and  pleasure. 

*  Why,  what — how  can  you  know?"  she 
stammered. 

He  came  close  to  her. 

"Honor— dear,  don't  you  remember  me 
now? " 

She  was  white  as  a  sheet. 

"  I  saw  the  resemblance  the  first  moment 
you  came  on  the  stage.  But  you  were  Hun 
garian.  Your  whole  history  was  known.  Oh, 
I  thought  that  if  it  were  you,  you  would  make 
some  sign.  I  was  afraid  to.  I  knew  it 
could  n't  be  true.  It  could  n't! " 

"  But  it  is  true,  Honor  bright." 

She  stretched  out  both  hands  to  him. 

"  You  really  are— Bim?  " 

'  Why,  dear,  you  're  crying! " 

"  But  you  can't  be  real.  You  're  a  dear 
ghost." 

He  drew  her  to  him  and  kissed  her  cheek. 
She  flung  an  arm  around  his  neck. 

"  Bim !    You  're  just  the  same ! " 

"  Just  the  same,  Honor." 


224  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

Her  face  hidden  in  his  neck,  she  was  shak 
ing  with  hard,  dry  sobs.  Maurice  fell  to 
kissing  her  hair. 

"  Why,  Honor!  Why,  dearie,  do  you  care 
so  much? " 

"  Oh,  Bim,  you  don't  know! " 

Suddenly  she  withdrew  from  him,  not  with 
any  embarrassment,  but  to  look  at  him 
better. 

"  But  oh,  Bim,  after  all  that  you  have  done 
you  can't  be  the  same !  " 

"  Just  the  same  old  Morry  Fordham.  All 
that  Tolna  nonsense  is  less  than  nothing. 
I  'm  your  old  Bim." 

She  brushed  the  tears  from  her  eyes, 
smiling. 

"  You  are  real.  I  thought  you  were  a 
beloved  ghost  from  those  happy  old  days. 
Oh,  Morry,  it  can't  be  that  those  old  times 
can  come  again.  Those  happy  times!  Oh, 
it 's  too  good  to  be  true !  " 

"They  can  come,  if  you  say  the  word.  I'm 
just  the  same.  But  you — " 

She  gave  him  both  her  hands. 

'  You  doubt  my  wanting  them  back? 
Why,  Morry,  they  're  the  only  good  times  of 
my  life." 

"How  about  Willoughby  Smith?" 


AN  OLD  FRIEND  FOUND      225 

"  Oh,  I  beg  his  pardon!  I  have  had  one 
good  time— when  he  asked  me  to  marry 
him." 

"  You  're  happy  to  be  engaged  to  him?  " 

He  might  have  asked  her,  "  Do  you  like 
roast  beef? "  so  casual  seemed  the  question. 
She  replied  as  simply: 

"  Oh,  yes.  You  don't  know  how  horrid 
things  have  been." 

'  Tell  me.  Tell  me  everything  about  your 
self." 

She  sat  down  by  the  book-strewn  center- 
table,  motioning  him  to  a  place  on  the  other 
side  and  pushing  the  lamp  back  that  she  might 
see  him  better. 

"  Don't  let  's  talk  about  me.  I  want  to 
hear  of  all  your  wonderful  success." 

"  I  Ve  only  been  singing  for  my  supper.  I 
want  to  hear  about  you.  I  Ve  never  known 
anything  of  you  since  that  little  letter  saying 
you  were  going  to  the  convent  and  could  n't 
write  to  me  any  more.  You  must  have  been 
twelve  years  old." 

"  I  have  been  at  home  again  five  years." 

"  I  wrote  you  when  you  were  nineteen  and 
I  supposed  that  you  were  old  enough  to  be 
through  with  the  convent." 

"  I  never  had  the  letter.    We  were  travel- 


226  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

ing  that  year.  Was  that  why  you  did  n't 
come  to  see  me  here  ?  More  likely  you  had  for 
gotten  all  about  me." 

"  No,  never  that.  But  you  had  grown  up 
into  a  famous  beauty.  I  was  afraid  to  meet 
you — afraid  that  I  should  n't  see  any  trace  of 
my  old  playmate." 

"  And  perhaps  they  had  told  you  that  I  was 
very  spoiled  and  proud." 

He  laughed.  "  Denys  did  contribute  that 
item." 

"  Oh,  how  mean  of  you  to  believe  it!  But 
I  know  how  you  felt.  I  was  almost  sure 
enough  that  you  were  Morry  Fordham  to 
make  some  sign,  only  I  knew  that  you  were 
spoiled  and  proud,  and  would  n't  care  a  button 
about  seeing  me." 

"  I  never  regretted  anything  in  my  life  as 
I  regret  not  having  sought  you  out  when  I 
first  came  back  to  New  York." 

She  laughed  happily. 

"  Oh,  don't  regret  anything.  All  I  can 
think  of  is  how  glad  I  am  to  see  you  now— too 
glad  by  far  to  scold  you.  You  see,  I  have 
nobody  to  talk  to — straight  out,  I  mean.  I 
tried  with  father  the  other  night,  but  it  was  n't 
a  great  success." 

"  How  about  Mr.  Smith?  " 


AN  OLD  FRIEND  FOUND    227 

She  seemed  to  have  no  more  self -conscious 
ness  before  her  old  playfellow  than  if  the 
years  had  been  reeled  backward  and  she  was 
again  the  child  of  twelve. 

"I  don't  know  him  well  yet.  It  will  be 
different  after  we  are  married." 

"  Then  talk  to  me— straight  out." 
'  Well,  I  was  on  the  other  side  for  seven 
years,  till  I  was  nineteen.  Mother  took  me 
traveling  in  the  summers,  and  we  spent  one 
winter  in  Italy  and  one  in  Dresden.  Then  I 
came  home,  and  I  could  n't  fit  in." 

"  I  know." 

"  You  see,  I  had  n't  really  known  any  young 
people  over  there,  except  the  convent  girls, 
and  they  were  so  different  from  girls  here. 
In  Germany  and  Italy,  the  last  years,  I  did  n't 
see  anybody  but  mother  and  my  teachers.  I 
was  so  anxious  to  come  back  to  all  my  child 
hood  friends.  But  when  I  did  I  could  n't  get 
on  with  them.  The  girls  were  so  well  dressed, 
and  so  bright,  and  so  sure  of  themselves. 
They  talked  about  house-parties,  and  clothes, 
and  men,  and  I  had  n't  a  word  to  say  to  them. 
They  had  been  to  matinees  every  week  of  their 
lives  since  they  were  in  their  teens,  and  I  never 
had  seen  anything  but  Racine  and  Schiller. 
They  had  their  rooms  papered  with  photo- 


228  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

graphs  of  stars,  and  I  did  n't  even  know  who 
Maude  Adams  was.  They  had  college-pins 
and  flags  and  sofa-cushions,  and  could  tell 
you  who  had  played  or  rowed  for  which  col 
lege,  every  season  for  years.  I  did  n't  know 
how  many  men  it  took  to  make  a  foot-ball 
team. 

"These  were  the  frivolous  girls.  The 
clever  ones  were  worse.  They  talked  about 
Meredith,  and  Japanese  prints,  and  whether 
modern  life  is  detrimental  to  individual  devel 
opment.  They  understood  racial  character 
istics  in  music,  and  the  color-sense  of  the 
ancient  Greeks.  Because  I  had  been  educated 
abroad,  I  was  supposed  to  have  opinions.  I 
don't  think  they  really  were  very  much  excited 
about  the  color-sense  of  the  Greeks — how 
could  anybody  be?— but  they  would  insist  on 
talking  about  it.  They  can  hand  you  out  five 
minutes'  conversation  about  anything  on 
earth.  Oh,  Bim,  I  have  never  learned  to  talk. 
This  is  a  sort  of  miracle  of  Balaam's  ass  going 
on  now.  I  never  had  the  gift  of  tongues 
before." 

"  How  about  the  men,  Honor?  " 
"  I  was  just  as  much  afraid  of  them  as  I 
was  of  the  girls.    Either  they  could  only  talk 
stocks  and  golf,  or  they  talked  about  purple 


AN  OLD  FRIEND  FOUND      229 

shadows  and  quoted  Omar.  I  suppose  there 
must  be  men  in  New  York  that  do  something, 
and  know  something,  and  are  something,  but 
you  don't  find  them  at  dances  and  teas." 

"So  the  doll  was  stuffed  with  sawdust? 
Poor  little  girl!" 

"  Perhaps  you  think  that  I  did  n't  try? 
That  I  was  just  faultfinding,  and  would  n't 
take  trouble  for  people?  I  have  been  cap 
tious  lately,  I  know;  but  at  first  I  tried— 
oh,  so  hard! — to  learn  the  jargon  and  keep  up 
with  the  procession.  I  have  seen  girls  come 
out  of  nowhere  and  be  more  royalist  than  the 
king  at  the  end  of  the  first  week.  But  I  'm 
not  bright.  I  'm  not  self-possessed.  I  don't 
get  there." 

"  I  don't  see  why  you  let  it  worry  you.  You 
could  be  a  deaf-mute  if  you  chose.  You  've 
been  a  tremendous  success." 

She  laughed. 

"  Yes,  in  a  queer  way  that  you  don't  under 
stand.  I  am  a  public  character.  I  am  a  ball 
room  success.  Men  tumble  over  themselves 
for  the  privilege  of  having  people  see  them 
dancing  with  me.  But  none  of  them  would 
dream  of  coming  to  my  house,  except  when 
asked  formally  to  dinner.  No  one  ever  drops 
in  to  see  me— men  or  girls.  I  have  any  mm> 


230  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

ber  of  public  satellites  and  no  private  friends." 

He  took  her  hand.  "  I  Ve  a  fellow-feeling, 
Honor." 

"  And  there  is  something  that  you  won't 
believe,  because  I  am  so  ridiculously  para 
graphed  in  the  newspapers  as  '  one  of  the  most 
admired  girls  in  America,'  and  all  that.  But, 
until  Willoughby  Smith  asked  me,  not  a 
human  being  has  ever  wanted  to  marry  me." 

"  The  country  is  going  to  the  dogs." 

"  There  was  a  young  painter  in  Florence 
who  shot  himself  on  the  door-step.  Oh,  not 
fatally,  Bim.  Just  a  flesh-wound.  Except 
for  him  and  Willoughby,  nobody.  I  think 
that  's  queer,  don't  you?  Most  girls  have  a 
good  many  chances,  first  and  last.  So  I 
realize  what  luck  I  am  in  to  have  suited  Wil 
loughby." 

"You  landed  a  big  fish  at  last,"  he  said 
absently,  regarding  her  in  a  puzzled  way. 

"  Is  n't  it  a  comfort?  Mother  had  begun 
to  believe  not  only  that  I  should  n't  make  the 
brilliant  match  of  her  dreams,  but  that  I 
should  n't  make  any  match  at  all.  I  think  she 
would  have  been  contented  with  almost  any 
body.  But  this!" 

As  he  was  silent,  she  added,  smiling: 
'  You  see,  when  you  introduce  a  daughter 


AN  OLD  FRIEND  FOUND       231 

with  such  a  flourish  of  trumpets  as  mother 
blew  over  me,  it  is  like  throwing  down  the 
gauntlet  to  society, — offering  a  wager  that 
you  will  do  something  big.  To  succeed  is 
naturally  a  triumph." 

"A  great  fortune  like  that  means  a  lot, 
Honor." 

"Everything!  Freedom,  power,  leading 
instead  of  following.  Oh,  I  'm  lucky,  in 
deed." 

She  showed  so  beaming  a  face  that  his 
question  seemed  superfluous. 

"  You  're  perfectly  satisfied  then,  dear?  " 

She  looked  a  little  surprised  that  he  could 
ask. 

"  Perfectly,  Bim.  It  is  n't  reasonable  to 
expect  everything.  It  would  be  suprahuman 
if  Willoughby  Smith  had  all  that  money  and 
looked  like — Monsieur  Tolna,"  she  instanced, 
with  a  frank  laugh  absolutely  devoid  of 
coquetry. 

"  It  would  be  awkward  if  you  fell  in  love 
with  somebody  else  afterward,  would  n't  it?  " 

"  It  does  n't  seem  to  be— nowadays,"  she 
laughed. 

Maurice  hated  her  cynicism  as  one  hates  bad 
words  in  a  baby  mouth,  the  while  he  assured 
himself  that  it  meant  no  more.  Within  the 


232  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

shell  of  her  radiant  womanhood,  her  spirit 
seemed  to  him  as  crude  and  sexless  as  that  of 
the  child  of  twelve  years  ago.  Hers  was  the 
innocent  hardihood  of  a  child.  He  told  him 
self  that  there  is  a  lack  of  sensitiveness  when 
the  feelings  have  been  blunted  and  when  they 
have  never  been  waked.  The  outward  effect 
is  the  same,  the  inner  causes  are  worlds  apart. 
Like  many  shy  persons  not  accustomed  to 
utter  their  thoughts,  she  had,  once  she  let  her 
self  go,  no  gage  of  what  was  startling  and  what 
was  not.  She  proclaimed  her  daring  senti 
ments  with  no  desire  to  produce  an  effect, 
with  no  consciousness  that  they  were  daring. 

"  I  have  known  two  girls  who  made  bril 
liant  marriages,  who  cried  all  night  before 
their  weddings.  They  both  cared  for  some 
body  else.  In  the  case  of  one  girl  I  think  her 
relatives  pushed  her  into  it,  but  the  other  girl 
did  it  of  her  own  free  choice.  You  see,  they 
had  both  been  somebodies  all  their  lives,  and 
they  could  n't  bear  to  drop  out.  I  think  I 
should  do  just  the  same  in  their  places.  I 
could  n't  let  a  Willoughby  Smith  get  by. 
So  I  am  very  lucky  that  there  is  no  one  for 
me  to  shed  a  tear  over." 

She  mused  a  moment,  then  looked  up  with 
quick  interest. 


AN  OLD  FRIEND  FOUND      233 

"  Were  you  ever  in  love,  Bim?  " 

"  Never— in  earnest.  But  I  'm  young,  and 
I  still  hope." 

"  You  think  it  is  worth  while?  " 
'  Yes.     You  see,  I  am  not  like  you  and 
royalty,  who  have  to  contract  alliances.    I  'm 
poor  enough  to  afford  luxuries.    I  can  marry 
some  one  I  like." 

"  Oh,  I  hope  that  you  will  find  her  very 
soon,  Morry,  if  you  want  her." 

"  Thank  you,  Honor  bright." 

"  But  it  seems  a  sort  of  pity,  does  n't  it," 
she  mused — "your  coming,  just  as  I  'm  about 
to  be  married? "  He  started,  but  there  was 
never  more  than  meets  the  ear  in  anything 
that  Honor  said.  "  I  mean  that  I  shall  be  too 
busy  to  have  any  good  of  you.  After  the 
wedding,  though,  when  we  are  settled  in  our 
new  house,  we  must  see  a  lot  of  you.  That  is, 
if  you  want  to,"  she  added,  with  a  laugh.  "  I 
keep  forgetting  that  you  did  n't  come  here 
to-day  to  see  me— you  were  n't  prepared  to 
find  me,  even.  You  came  to  see  the  old 
house." 

"  How  long  have  you  lived  in  it,  dear  girl?  " 

"  We  bought  it  about  a  year  after  you  went 
away.  Mr.  Gelbenbach  failed, — there  must 
have  been  a  slump  in  pickles,— and  father 


234  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

always  loved  this  house.  Does  this  room  look 
natural,  Bim? " 

"Mother's  sitting-room?  It  is  so  natural 
that  I  want  to  cry." 

"  Oh,  Bim  dear,  you  ought  to  own  the 
house." 

"  I  came  to-day  to  talk  with  the  owner 
about  buying  it.  But  I  love  to  think  of  your 
living  in  it,  Honor." 

"  Ah,  but  I  must  leave  it  when  I  marry. 
And  oh,  Morry,  Willoughby  Smith  wants  to 
pull  it  down,  with  the  three  beyond,  which  he 
owns,  and  put  up  a  sky-scraper.  He  was 
talking  to  father  about  it  last  night,  and 
father  seemed  rather  inclined  to  let  it  go." 

"  Oh,  never  mind  the  house,  child.  I  want 
to  talk  about  you." 

"  I  have  told  you  all  about  me,  already." 

"  Honor,  are  you  honestly  glad  I  Ve  come 
back-" 

"  Glad?  Why,  I  told  father,  the  other 
night,  that  you  were  the  only  person  in  the 
world  I  had  ever  been  really  fond  of." 

His  voice  came  huskily: 

"  Then  Honor,  Honor—" 

The  telephone  bell  jingled.  Honor  im 
mediately  became  preoccupied,  automatically 


AN  OLD  FRIEND  FOUND      235 

murmuring,  "  Pardon,"  as  she  hastened  to 
obey  the  noisy  mandate. 

"  Certainly,"  answered  Maurice  to  the 
empty  walls.  "  The  victim  of  the  telephone 
habit  would  leave  his  father's  death-bed  to 
answer  a  call." 

Her  voice  was  heard  in  the  passage. 
'  Yes,  immediately.    I  am  so  sorry,  mother. 
I  've  been  detained.    Yes,  I  '11  start  this  very 
minute.    I  'm  all  ready.    I  am  ever  so  sorry, 
dear." 

In  a  moment  she  reappeared  in  the  door 
way,  fastening  her  long  fur  stole  as  she  spoke. 

"  Bim,  I  was  so  interested  in  you  that  I 
entirely  forgot  an  appointment  to  meet 
mother.  I  must  go,  this  very  second.  But 
you  '11  come  again  very  soon,  won't  you?  " 


CHAPTER  XIII 

MR.  ALDEN'S  TRIBULATIONS 

rilHOUGH  the  sharp  young  man  who 
J-  looked  so  like  and  yet  so  unlike  a  "  gen 
tlemanly  salesman"  called  himself  a  Confi 
dential  Agent,  in  him  no  more  than  in  another 
would  Denys  wholly  confide.  Early  on  the 
Thursday  morning  he  panted  into  the  Private 
Inquiry  Office,  looking  as  if  he  had  not  slept, 
his  elf-lock  hanging  over  his  eyes,  his  motions 
more  jerky,  his  speech  more  staccato  than 
ever.  He  described  Maurice's  departure  from 
the  Opera-House,  and  the  concomitant  dis 
appearance  of  the  valet.  As  Monsieur  Tolna 
had  neither  friends  nor  enemies  in  New  York, 
— absolutely  no  acquaintances  outside  his 
profession, — Mr.  Alden  could  suggest  no 
place  to  which  he  could  have  gone  of  his  own 
accord,  no  motive  for  his  disappearance. 
Most  probably  he  had  been  kidnapped  and 
was  held  for  ransom.  He  must  have  been 

236 


MR.  ALDEN'S  TRIBULATIONS  237 

lured  away  by  a  note  or  message  purporting 
to  come  from  Hirt,  or  from  himself,  Alden, 
and  was  being  concealed  somewhere.  The 
valet  was  certainly  concerned  in  the  plot,  and 
possibly  jealousy  on  the  part  of  some  fellow- 
artist  supplied  the  motive.  Denys  and  the 
detective  wallowed  together  in  a  sea  of  sur 
mises  and  suspicions,  implicating  Venal  Ser 
vants,  Envious  Rivals,  and  a  band  of  Profes 
sional  Criminals  whose  wickedness  and  craft 
surpassed  the  villainies  to  be  found  in  the 
pages  of  "  Old  Sleuth."  To  one  question  the 
client  returned  his  automatic  answer  that 
Monsieur  Tolna  spoke  no  English.  Then, 
smitten  by  fear  lest  this  mental  reservation 
(he  called  it  by  no  harsher  name)  should  mis 
lead  inquiry,  he  hedged,  stammeringly :  "  Oh, 
he  may  have  picked  up  a  few  phrases.  I  don't 
know.  I  never  spoke  it  to  him."  The  detec 
tive  closed  his  note-book. 

"  The  first  step,  Mr.  Alden,  is  to  send  in 
a  general  alarm." 

"  What  does  that  mean?  "  asked  the  other, 
in  his  usual  ignorance  of  American  terms. 

"  Why,  notify  headquarters,  and  let  them 
send  Tolna's  description  to  every  chief  of 
police  in  the  country.  In  a  criminal  case  like 
this,  Mr.  Alden,  though  you  're  level-headed 


238  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

enough  to  call  in  private  detectives,  still  we  've 
got  to  have  official  cooperation.  If  we  've 
reason  to  think  that  a  crime  's  been  committed 
and  don't  notify  the  police,  where  do  we 
stand?  " 

To  himself  Denys  admitted  the  force  of  the 
argument,  yet  he  could  not  admit  the  assumed 
necessity.  The  police  meant  the  newspapers ; 
meant  a  full  account  of  the  rescue  of  Tolna; 
meant  an  almost  inevitable  disclosure  of  the 
imposture.  And  this  revelation  all  Denys's 
anxiety  had  not  yet  driven  him  to  face. 

As  if  he  read  his  client's  thought,  Mr. 
James  Dunning  went  on : 

"  And  you  need  more  than  the  police— you 
need  the  newspapers.  In  any  mysterious-dis 
appearance  case,  publicity  's  your  best  friend. 
I  don't  care  how  sharp  a  detective  is,  he  can't 
be  in  but  one  place  at  once.  But  the  public  's 
everywhere — everybody,  down  to  the  kids, 
reading  the  case,  everybody  watching  out 
for  suspicious-looking  parties.  Yes,  the 
public's  your  best  detective  and  don't  cost  you 
a  cent." 

"I  'm  sorry  that  I  can't  agree  with  you," 
Denys  returned.  "  But  I  have  no  confidence 
in  the  New  York  police.  They  seem  to  me  to 
bungle  whatever  they  touch.  I  have  been 


MR.  ALDEN'S  TRIBULATIONS    239 

thinking  the  matter  over  all  night,  and  I  feel 
convinced  that  I  am  right  in  trusting  to  you, 
and  to  you  alone.  As  for  the  newspapers,  I 
should  have  thought  it  a  hopeless  blunder  to 
send  out  a  hue-and-cry  and  thus  put  the  crimi 
nals  on  their  guard." 

That  kidnappers  who  had  carried  off  an 
operatic  star  might  naturally  expect  him  to 
be  inquired  after  was  a  reply  to  this  argument 
which  occurred  to  Denys  himself  as  final.  He 
was  mentally  berating  his  own  lack  of  expedi 
ents  when  the  detective  surprised  him  by 
accepting  the  case  on  the  conditions  proposed. 
The  man  seemed  both  shrewd  and  honest,  and 
Denys  left  the  office  assuring  himself  that  the 
lost  would  be  found  and  that  he  had  conducted 
negotiations  with  eminent  discretion.  Deny 
it  as  he  might,  however,  he  was  conscious  of 
something  wrong  about  the  whole  interview, 
a  persistent  false  note.  Yet  surely  his  one 
small  reticence  could  do  no  harm.  Why,  he 
asked  himself,  should  this  not  have  been  a 
satisfactory  hour? 

When,  presently,  the  Confidential  Agent 
waxed  confidential  to  his  subordinate,  the  ex 
planation  of  Denys's  vague  misgiving  took 
on  definite  form. 

"  Say,  Bob,  you  ought  t'  have  heard  us — 


240  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

him  trying  to  make  me  believe  that  he  believes 
there  's  a  case  of  kidnapping,  and  me  trying  to 
make  him  believe  I  believed  it!  If  Tolna 
don't  sing  out  his  contract,  Alden  's  got  to 
pony  up.  I  got  so  much  out  of  him.  If 
Tolna  'd  really  disappeared  he  'd  have  every 
cop  in  town  dancing  buck-and-wings  on  the 
case.  But  he  don't  even  tell  me  anything  I 
can  work  on.  Just  mark  your  Uncle  Dudley's 
words:  Tolna  's  eating  his  little  breakfast  in 
his  little  bed  at  home,  and  this  feller  's  getting 
up  a  grand  fake  for  the  yellows. — Kidnapped 
and  Held  for  Ransom!  Gallant  Rescue  by 
Mr.  Alden.— See  if  it  ain't." 

"  What  yer  goin'  to  do,  Jim? " 

"  Go  ahead  as  if  I  was  convinced  it  was  all 
straight.  We  '11  come  in  for  our  pay,  anyhow. 
If  we  can  prove  it  's  a  plant,  we  '11  squeeze 
Alden  for  fair." 

Denys,  entering  his  house  in  the  renewed 
hope  of  finding  Maurice  or  news  of  Maurice, 
was  met  by  the  intelligence  that  Fra^ois  had 
been  there,  packed  up  his  clothes,  and  de 
parted,  whither  the  Japanese  boy  knew  not. 
Distressed  at  his  master's  blank  face,  he 
added : "  I  could  tell  him  wait,  but  I  not  know. 
He  leave  note." 


MR.  ALDEN'S  TRIBULATIONS    241 

Denys  flashed  up  the  stairs  after  Gichera, 
who  sought  on  the  library  table  a  folded  scrap 
of  paper  addressed  in  Maurice's  well-known, 
uncompromising  hand. 

Wednesday  night. 

DEAR  DENYS:  As  the  situation  at  home  seems  a 
little  strained,  I  am  going  away  to  give  it  a  chance 
to  relax. 

Don't  worry.  I  won't  stand  in  drafts  or  get  my 
feet  wet.  M. 

With  the  curt  message  before  him,  Denys 
realized  that  all  day  he  had  expected  it.  He 
had  persuaded  himself  that  he  believed  in  the 
kidnapping  rather  than  admit  that  he  had  lost 
his  case,  that  his  blundering  tactics  had  driven 
Maurice  into  voluntary  hiding.  He  still 
found  it  incomprehensible  that  the  boy's  per 
verse  dislike  of  his  profession  or  his  aversion 
to  wooing  a  delightful  girl  should  be  strong 
enough  to  part  him  from  the  fame  and  glories 
of  the  stage.  On  the  whole,  the  note  made 
matters  worse.  Had  Maurice  really  been  kid 
napped,  it  were  easier  to  find  him  than  if  he 
had  deliberately  disappeared.  If  his  longing 
for  liberty  had  led  him  to  forfeit  his  agree 
ment,  certainly  he  would  spare  no  pains  to 
elude  discovery. 

16 


242  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

In  his  haste  to  escape  pursuit,  the  star  had 
not  taken  time  to  explain  that  his  obscuration 
would  be  brief.  Denys,  always  dominated  by 
imagination  in  his  own  conduct,  imagined 
everybody  else  to  be  made  precisely  like  Mr. 
Denys  Alden.  Too  entirely  governed  by  his 
own  convictions  to  give  way  to  any  other 
man's,  it  had  not  occurred  to  him  that  his 
attempts  at  conversion  could  drive  Maurice 
out  of  the  house.  Now  that  he  faced  this 
painful  consequence,  his  imagination  supplied 
the  fugitive  with  the  very  mood  in  which  he 
himself  would  have  fled  a  hated  abode.  He 
could  not  have  departed  without  dramatic 
vows  never  again,  while  life  remained  to  him, 
to  let  his  shadow  fall  across  its  threshold. 

The  impulse  that  could  sever  Denys  from 
home  would  sweep  him  at  least  to  California, 
and  probably  to  some  far  Pacific  isle,  before 
he  drew  breath.  Yet  even  with  his  agonizing 
conviction  that  the  flight  of  the  singer  was 
meant  to  be  for  all  time,  he  cherished  an  un 
quenchable  belief  that  Maurice  would  be 
brought  back.  He  would  be,  because  he  must 
be! 

His  opportunity  to  learn  the  truth  from 
Francois  having  been  unluckily  missed,  a 
second  chance  was  vouchsafed  Denys  in  a 


MR.  ALDEN'S  TRIBULATIONS    243 

visit  from  Herr  Hirt,  the  manager  of  the 
opera  company.  Though  Hirt  had  lived  in 
America  for  thirty  strenuous  years,  as  a 
youth  he  had  followed  the  Prussian  eagles  to 
Sedan,  where  his  bearing  acquired  a  trium 
phant  militarism  which  he  had  never  allowed 
to  lapse.  As  his  tall  figure,  in  losing  its  youth 
ful  slimness,  had  preserved  its  youthful 
erectness,  his  weight  but  made  him  the  more 
imposing.  With  his  florid  complexion,  his 
bright  blue  eyes,  his  waxed  mustachios,  he 
looked  a  major-general  in  citizen's  clothes, 
and  found  his  martial  aspect  perhaps  of  ser 
vice  in  drilling  a  more  unruly  corps  than  any 
field-commander  ever  had  to  cope  with.  This 
morning  he  was  twirling  the  mustachios  to 
terrifying  truculence,  while  an  inward  agita 
tion  was  betrayed  by  the  German  familiarity 
with  the  Deity  which  interlarded  his  excellent 
English. 

"  Alden,  what  under  God's  heaven  did 
Tolna  mean  last  night — that  he  won't  sing 
any  more? " 

Denys,  hearing  this  declaration  for  the  first 
time,  was  not  inspired  to  guess  that  Maurice 
had  simply  declined  an  out-of-town  engage 
ment  at  the  close  of  the  present  season.  But 
even  now  he  would  not  own  himself  beaten; 


244  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

would  not  admit  any  contingency  that  might 
prevent  the  recapture  of  the  culprit,  and  the 
return  of  him,  chastened  and  repentant,  to 
Hirt  and  to  Margery. 

"  I  don't  think  he  means  anything  but  over 
strain,"  answered  Denys,  without  a  qualm, 
fixing  his  inward  eye  on  the  pachydermatous 
tenor.  "  Since  your  force  has  been  so  crippled 
by  influenza  he  has  been  singing  twice,  and 
even  three  times,  a  week.  In  spite  of  his 
splendid  constitution,  he  must  feel  it.  You 
ought  not  to  have  billed  him  for  Saturday's 
*  Faust,'  but  let  him  save  himself  up  for 
'  L'Enchanteresse '  on  Monday." 

He  watched  Hirt  keenly.  If  the  manager 
did  not  know  of  their  misfortune,  he  had  no 
mind  to  disclose  it  and  add  to  his  trials  the 
impresario's  profane  distraction. 

"  Oh,  Grigni  is  quite  well  enough  to  sing 
Faust,"  Hirt  answered,  with  surprising  readi 
ness.  Denys,  who  could  not  know  that  this 
concession  had  already  been  made  to  Maurice, 
breathed  again.  He  had  now  four  whole  days 
in  which  to  produce  the  runaway. 

"  Is  he  awake?  "  Hirt  went  on.  "  I  want  to 
settle  one  or  two  matters." 

But  Denys's  fluent  tongue  was  easily  equal 
to  this  perplexity,  and  Hirt  departed,  con- 


MR.  ALDEN'S  TRIBULATIONS    245 

vinced,  for  the  moment  at  least,  of  the  wisdom 
of  leaving  Tolna's  whims  to  his  friend's  man 
agement. 

Had  he  been  less  eager  to  hurry  away  this 
dangerous  visitor,  Denys  would  doubtless 
have  been  asked  his  opinion  on  various  matters 
concerned  in  the  first  production  of  "L'En- 
chanteresse,"  and  would  certainly  have  heard 
of  Tolna's  pledge  to  pay  for  his  four  days' 
holiday  by  singing  better  than  ever. 

While  he  was  still  felicitating  himself  on 
his  fortunate  riddance  the  telephone-bell  rang. 
Hoping  against  hope  to  hear  the  jeering  voice 
of  Maurice,  he  turned  white  at  the  sound 
of  Margery's  soft  tones — embarrassed,  he 
thought,  or  perhaps  anxious. 

"  Is  it  Mr.  Alden?  "  she  asked,  with  a  shade 
of  hesitation.  "How  do  you  do?  How  is 
— how  is  Monsieur  Tolna?  " 

Too  well  he  knew  what  stress  of  feeling 
had  driven  her  to  inquire.  Forty-eight  hours 
had  passed  since  he  had  sworn  that  Maurice 
adored  her;  forty-eight  hours  without  a  sign 
from  the  impatient  lover.  Denys  could  pic 
ture  her  varying  moods  of  patience  and  impa 
tience;  of  doubt  and  faith;  could  fancy  her 
hurt,  angry,  proudly  silent ;  at  last,  too  miser 
able  to  bear  longer  suspense.  With  an  im- 


246  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

pulse  to  shield  her  as  well  as  to  save  himself, 
he  answered  without  noticeable  hesitation : 

"  He  is  not  well,  Miss  Fanning.  Nothing 
to  worry  about;  just  fag.  The  doctor  advises 
bed  for  a  few  days." 

"  Did  you  say  that  he  is  ill  in  bed?  " 

The  voice  was  certainly  startled. 

"  For  a  few  days;  just  a  rest-cure.  Don't 
be  alarmed.  The  doctor  prophesies  that  he 
will  be  a  new  man  by  next  week." 

"  Mamma  will  send  down  some  flowers," 
answered  the  voice  with  a  curious  intonation. 
The  receiver  was  hung  up  rather  abruptly, 
and  the  conversation  left  Denys  to  the  pleas 
ing  conviction  that  in  trying  to  spare  her 
pride  he  had  cruelly  alarmed  her.  He  now 
seemed  to  himself  to  have  plumbed  the  depths 
of  misery,  because  he  could  not  estimate  his 
blacker  gloom  had  he  known  that  Margery 
had  come  to  the  telephone  enlightened  by 
her  interview  with  Maurice. 

"  He  invents  an  illness  to  excuse  Monsieur 
Tolna  for  not  coming  to  beseech  my  hand," 
the  girl  reflected,  half  amused,  half  angry. 
"  But  what  will  he  do  next?  Tolna  sings  on 
Monday.  How  can  Denys  keep  it  up?  He 
will  have  to  confess  to  me  then." 

She  sat  down,  chin  in  hand,  frowning,  smil- 


MR.  ALDEN'S  TRIBULATIONS    247 

ing,  wondering,  not  knowing  whether  to 
laugh,  to  rage,  or  to  cry.  It  was  certainly 
funny,  Denys's  set  resolve  to  force  on  her  a 
lover  whom  she  did  not  want,  who  did  not 
want  her,  and  with  whom  she  had  a  perfect 
understanding.  Yes,  forcing  Monsieur 
Tolna  on  her  was  funny,  but  forcing  her  on 
Monsieur  Tolna  was  insufferable.  She  had 
been  obliged  to  forgive  Tolna  for  his  credu 
lity  because  he  was  so  unconcerned  about  it, 
so  resolved  to  take  the  whole  affair  as  a  joke, 
that  it  was  useless  to  attempt  heroics.  They 
would  have  seemed  to  him  a  still  broader  joke, 
she  perceived.  But  Denys  should  be  made  to 
suffer  for  both.  He  had  no  right  to  miscon 
ceive  her,  dr  to  make  Tolna  misconceive  her, 
or,  crowning  offense  of  all,  to  fling  her  to 
Tolna  in  the  face  of  the  man's  indifference. 
"  Ever  since  he  discovered  your  infatuation 
he  has  been  resolved  that  I  should  marry  you." 
The  confession  still  burned  in  her  ears.  Not 
only  her  delicate  sex-modesty,  her  sensitive 
girl-pride,  revolted  at  being  talked  over,  ar 
ranged  about,  accused  of  giving  her  heart 
unasked,  but  her  spoiled-darling's  dignity  was 
still  more  fiercely  alert.  Sweet  though  her 
nature  was,  simple  as  her  upbringing  had 
been,  she  could  not  forget  that  she  was  Miss 


248  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

Margery  Fanning,  a  personage;  only  child 
and  great  heiress;  pretty  and  clever  and  ac 
complished;  very  deserving  of  admiration  and 
very  much  accustomed  to  receive  it.  Miss 
Fanning  was  not  a  young  lady  to  be  made 
ridiculous  with  impunity.  Had  Denys  sup 
posed  that  she  had  no  lovers  of  her  own  sigh 
ing  vainly  for  her,  that  he  must  drag  this 
protesting  rebel  to  her  feet? 

Since  Maurice  had  persuaded  her  that  flight 
to  Japan  was  perhaps  an  undue  punishment 
for  the  offense  against  her,  and  since  in  her 
heart  she  admitted  it  to  be  little  less  hard 
on  the  executioner  than  on  the  victim,  she 
conceded  that  she  must  in  the  end  forgive 
Denys.  But  certainly  he  should  first  do 
penance  with  sheet  and  candle.  For  a  day 
or  two  not  only  should  he  be  torn  by  jealousy 
of  his  friend,  but  he  should  endure  the 
more  exquisite  pang  of  believing  that  she 
suffered. 

To  this  mood  of  Margery's  entered  like  a 
whirlwind  the  jimp  figure  and  aggressive 
tailormadeness  of  Mrs.  Norton  Burnham. 

'  Thank  goodness  you  are  at  home,  Madge. 
I  want  you  to  get  busy  and  help  me." 

"You  look  excited,  Jessie.  Has  Uncle 
Norton  been  giving  you  points?  Are  you 


MR.  ALDEN'S  TRIBULATIONS    249 

raiding  United  States  Steel?  Or  do  you  mean 
to  set  the  President  right? " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  mind  the  President's  going 
on  forever.  I  'm  a  strenuous-lifer  myself. 
But  you  're  on  the  right  track.  I  'm  in  the 
wrecking  business.  Madge,  down  at  Nellie's 
you  seemed  to  sort  of  take  an  interest  in 
Honor  Hammond." 

"  I  do— sort  of,"  Margery  laughed.  "At 
least  I  did  on  Sunday  night,  when  Monsieur 
Tolna  seemed  so  struck  with  her.  You  saw 
it,  too?" 

"Well,  rather!"  Jessie  emphasized  her 
agreement  by  pounding  her  fist  on  her  knee. 

"  And  I  feel  almost  sure — I  don't  know  that 
it 's  she,  but  I  believe  so — I  began  to  like  her 
then,  and  I  hoped  he  really  was  interested — 
that  Monsieur  Tolna  is  in  earnest  about  her. 
But  since  she  has  been  silly  enough  to  engage 
herself  to  Willoughby  Smith—" 

"  That  's  just  the  point,  Madge.  She  's 
too  good  for  him.  You  and  I  have  got  to 
break  it  off." 

"  But  I  'm  not  at  all  sure,  now,  that  she  is 
too  good  for  him.  Any  girl  who  could  accept 
that  little  vulgarian—  Oh,  I  forget  that  he 
is  your  own  peculiar,  patented  discovery, 
Jessie." 


250  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

*  You  need  n't  apologize,  Madge.  Nobody 
understands  the  wretch  better  than  I  do.  But, 
thank  goodness,  I  have  n't  had  to  consider 
him  as  a  possible  husband.  And  seriously,  it 
is  n't  fair  to  be  too  hard  on  Honor.  For  the 
last  five  years  she  has  had  it  dinged  into  her 
that  she  must  marry  money." 

"  Oh,  Jessie,  surely  the  Hammonds  are  too 
weU  bred  for  that." 

"  They  did  n't  bully  her,  of  course.  Very 
likely  they  did  n't  talk  about  it.  But  it  was 
in  the  air  she  breathed.  She  could  n't  get 
away  from  it.  May  I  remark  that  it  does  n't 
become  you  to  sit  in  the  seat  of  the  scornful, 
my  dear  young  friend?  With  everything  you 
could  wish  for  ever  since  you  were  born,  and 
such  a  mother  as  yours  into  the  bargain — my, 
have  n't  you  been  lucky!  So  just  speak 
gently  to  the  erring,  please." 

Margery  laughed.  "  But  if  she  had  stood 
out  for  five  years,  why  need  she  give  in  just 
when  young  Lochinvar  comes  in  sight?  The 
evidence  is  against  her,  Jessie." 

"  But  we  could  n't  expect  her  to  fall  in  love 
with  Tolna  before  she  had  said  six  words  to 
him,"  Jessie  persisted,  undiverted  from  her 
point.  "  Or  to  know  that  he  had  fallen  in  love 
with  her,  either.  But  you  say  yourself  he 
has-" 


MR.  ALDEN'S  TRIBULATIONS    251 

"  No,  no,  no,  my  dear;  I  don't  say  so.  He 
told  me  that  he  was  in  love  with  some  one 
whom  he  knew  as  a  little  girl.  And  Mrs. 
Hammond  declared  that  he  was  still  a  dear, 
unspoiled  boy,  or  something  to  that  effect, 
and  he  certainly  looked  at  Honor  as  if  he  were 
trying  to  find  an  old  likeness — " 

"  Why,  it  Js  as  plain  as  daylight,  child. 
They  two  *  had  paidlet  i'  the  burn,  and  pu'd 
the  go  wans  fine.'  I  can't  imagine  where  the 
burn  was.  Honor  never  went  to  Hungary, 
and  they  did  n't  have  'em  in  Paris  when  I  was 
there.  And  I  don't  know  a  gowan  from  a 
gooseberry.  What  is  a  gowan,  you  monument 
of  a  superior  education?  I  don't  believe  you 
know,  either.  Never  mind.  Evidently  they 
pu'd  'em  in  the  groves  of  childhood,  some 
where.  So  of  course  he  's  in  love  with  her, 
and  of  course  we  ought  to  help  along  a  splen 
did  fellow  and  a  distinguished  fellow  like 
him." 

"And  incidentally,  I  infer,  to  get  your  stray 
lamb  back?" 

'  Why,  of  course.  Oh,  I  admit  I  have  an 
ax  to  grind.  I  'm  still  as  mad  as  a  wet  hen 
over  that  engagement.  The  idea  of  giving 
up  the  Sing  Sing  dinner  at  the  eleventh  hour, 
when  I  'd  talked  to  all  New  York  about  it !  It 


252  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

was  simply  a  deliberate  insult  to  me.  Yes, 
my  motive,  all  sublime  (I  don't  make  any 
bones  of  it) ,  is  to  dish  Willoughby.  But  now 
that  I  've  had  time  to  think  it  over,  I  Ve  the 
best  feelings  in  the  world  toward  Honor.  Of 
course  she  is  n't  in  love  with  Willoughby — 
nobody  could  be ;  and  of  course  she  could  fall 
in  love  with  Tolna— anybody  could,  with  their 
hands  tied.  Now,  Margery,  don't  you  think 
that  Honor  would  be  happier  with  him  than 
giving  Sing  Sing  dinners?  " 

"  Oh,  Jessie,  you  are  too  delightful!  First 
catch  your  hare.  Monsieur  Tolna  certainly 
did  stare  at  Honor.  But  he  may  not  have 
been  looking  beyond  her  to  the  Little  Church 
around  the  Corner." 

"  Ah,  wait  till  I  tell  you!  "  Jessie  retorted, 
with  unabated  enthusiasm.  "  Just  now  I  was 
coming  out  of  the  dressmaker's,  when  I  met 
Honor  on  the  steps.  I  had  n't  seen  her  since 
the  engagement  was  announced,  so  of  course 
I  congratulated  her,  and  then  I  asked  her  if 
she  had  n't  had  a  hard  time  making  up  her 
mind  between  Beauty  and  the  Beast." 

"  Jessie,  if  I  had  n't  an  overweening  respect 
for  you  as  my  aunt,  I  should  certainly  say 
that  you  are  the  most  impertinent  creature 
who  was  ever  tolerated  by  polite  society." 

"  Thanks,  love !    Honor  stiffened  up  and 


MR.  ALDEN'S  TRIBULATIONS    253 

said  she  did  n't  know  what  I  meant.  I  said, 
'  Oh,  no  doubt  you  knew  what  you  wanted. 
But  it  must  have  taken  fortitude  to  say  an 
eternal  farewell  to  the  entrancing  Tolna.'  At 
that  she  laughed.  '  I  have  n't,'  she  said.  '  We 
are  the  best  of  friends.  I  am  an  hour  late  here 
because  he  has  just  been  spending  the  after 
noon  with  me.'  Well!  You  could  have 
knocked  me  down  with  a  feather." 

"  Probably  she  said  it  to  tease  you." 

"No;  it  just  slipped  out  because  she  was 
mad  at  me.  But  it  was  true,  for  she  blushed 
and  looked  as  if  she  wished  she  had  held  her 
tongue.  Besides,  Honor  is  n't  quick  enough 
to  make  up  anything.  If  Tolna  has  begun 
calling  on  her  already — " 

Margery's  eyes  danced. 

"But  even  then,  Jessie,  he  may  n't  mean 
matrimony.  The  Hammonds  are  poor,  and 
we  all  know  what  these  foreign  counts  expect." 

For  the  first  time,  Mrs.  Burnham  looked  a 
little  dashed,  though  she  protested  valiantly: 

"  But  he  makes  a  big  income,  and  he  will 
for  years  to  come.  Why  should  he  be  a  for 
tune-hunter?  He  does  n't  want  to  be  sup 
ported  in  idleness.  He  's  not  that  kind.  No, 
Madge;  I  consider  him  an  A  Number  1 
match  for  Honor." 

"But   do   actors   make    good   husbands? 


254  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

Ought  we  to  encourage  Honor  to  risk  her 
domestic  happiness  with  a  professional 
singer? " 

For  a  moment  Jessie  looked  puzzled  and 
discouraged.  Then  she  pounced  on  her  niece 
to  give  her  a  vigorous  shaking. 

"Madge,  you  wicked  little  beast,  you  're 
just  teasing  me! " 

"Oh,  Jessie,  please — please!  Unhand  me, 
tyrant,  and  I  will  confess  all.  If  you  must 
know,  Jessie  dear,  I  have  stolen  your  thunder 
in  this  affair.  I  am  even  now  doing  my  utmost, 
in  the  most  dishonorable  way,  to  separate  two 
plighted  lovers  and  rob  a  girl  who  has  never 
injured  me  of  a  house  on  the  Park,  the 
Rajah's  Rose,  and  millions  in  the  bank.  I 
have  already  asked  Miss  Hammond  and  Mon 
sieur  Tolna  to  come  here  on  Sunday  for  a 
quiet  cup  of  tea." 

"  Oh,  you  angel!  That  was  why  I  came  to 
you.  I  knew  you  were  the  only  one  who  could 
get  hold  of  him.  And  you  '11  keep  the  Argus- 
eyed  in  the  next  room? " 

"  The  Argus-eyed  is  n't  even  asked.  The 
fact  is — "  Margery  hesitated.  Enjoyment 
of  the  funny  side  of  the  story  impelled  her  to 
confession,  but  mortification  prompted  her 
to  withhold  part  of  the  truth.  "The  fact  is 


MR.  ALDEN'S  TRIBULATIONS    255 

that  Maurus  Tolna  has  run  away  from  the 
Argus-eyed  on  purpose  to  go  a-courting,  and 
he  is  staying  at  a  private  hotel,  under  another 
name.  And  Mr.  Alden  does  n't  know  where 
he  is.  I  telephoned  him — Mr.  Alden,  I  mean — 
two  or  three  hours  ago,  and  he  answered  that 
Tolna  was  in  bed  with  nervous  prostration. 
Evidently  he  is  too  proud  to  say  that  his  pris 
oner  has  broken  jail.  His  voice  sounded  so 
worried.  Oh,  it  was  too  absurd!  " 

Jessie  received  this  intelligence  in  a  very 
unusual  silence  which  lasted  at  least  a  minute. 
Then  she  rose  to  her  feet  like  a  Nemesis,  a 
steely  glitter  in  her  eye. 

"  Madge,  I  told  you  I  'd  do  anything  in  the 
world  for  you  or  Alice,  and  so  I  will.  But  I 
have  n't  forgiven  that  young  man  of  yours 
for  his  behavior  to  me  at  the  opera.  I  gave 
him  fair  warning.  Nothing  mean  about  me. 
Now  you  just  wait.  I  '11  fix  him!  " 


CHAPTER  XIV 

FURTHER  TRIBULATIONS  OF  MR.  ALDEN 

DEAE  HAEEY  :  If  you  want  a  "  scoop  "  I  can  give 
you  one,  but  promise,  on  your  honor,  not  to  drag 
me  into  it.  They  say  newspaper  men  have  n't  any, 
though. 

Well,  anyhow,  the  scoop  is  that  the  singer,  Mau- 
rus  Tolna,  has  disappeared  from  home,  and  no  one 
— not  even  Denys  Alden — has  the  faintest  idea  where 
he  is.  I  don't  know  whether  Alden  or  Hirt  has  been 
to  the  police,  and  of  course  if  they  have  it  is  n't 
a  scoop.  But  I  have  reason  to  believe  that  Alden 
will  keep  quiet  so  long  as  he  has  any  hope  of  Tolna's 
coming  back,  which  he  won't.  Won't  come  back, 
I  mean. 

Naturally,  you  won't  believe  this  without  proof, 
but  I  give  you  my  word  I  know  it.  Go  to  Tolna's 
house  and  try  to  see  him  if  you  are  afraid  to  take 
a  straight  tip  from 

Your  sincere  friend, 
JESSIE  LAWRENCE  BUENHAM. 

P.S.     Don't  spare  'scare-heads. 
Thursday  night,  late. 

256 


FURTHER  TRIBULATIONS     257 

Finding  this  inspiring  document  awaiting 
him  when  he  came  in  on  Friday  afternoon, 
the  youngest  reporter  on  the  "  Palladium " 
reached  for  his  hat.  With  shining  eyes  he 
told  the  city  editor  that  he  guessed  he  had  a 
big  thing.  The  city  editor  let  him  go  with 
out  inquiry.  The  "Palladium"  encouraged 
individual  enterprise. 

At  the  moment  of  Mr.  Henry  Mayne's  ar 
rival  at  his  door,  Denys  happened  to  be  in  the 
hall  examining  a  box  just  arrived  from  the 
florist's.  Miss  Fanning  had  spoken  of  send 
ing  flowers.  His  own  name  on  the  cover 
doubtless  denoted  her  natural  objection  to  be 
ing  numbered,  by  a  family  tradesman,  among 
the  Tolna  worshipers.  Denys  did  not  covet 
tributes  meant  for  another  man. 

"Throw  all  that  stuff  away,"  he  ordered 
sharply,  before  conscience  demanded  by  what 
right  he  thus  disposed  of  Maurice's  property. 
"No,  Gichera,  take  it  to  Monsieur  Tolna's 
room,"  he  amended. 

But  Gichera  the  curious  had  already  lifted 
out  of  its  many  soft  wrappings  a  set  piece  made 
of  smilax  in  the  form  of  a  lyre.  Evidently  Miss 
Fanning  had  meant  to  suggest  a  comparison 
between  the  singer  and  Apollo.  Denys's  eye 
brows  rose.  To  him  the  thought  was  as  pom- 

17 


258  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

pous  as  its  symbol  was  hideous.  How  lament 
able  showed  an  infatuation  which  expressed 
itself  in  this  bathos  of  bad  taste!  He  would 
not  even  glance  at  the  card,  half  hidden  in  the 
close  leafage,  lest  it  should  bear  a  personal 
message,  however  formal. 

Wondering  over  the  atrocity,  he  did  not  no 
tice  the  bell,  and  was  caught  by  his  unwelcome 
visitor  before  he  could  throw  up  a  line  of  de 
fense. 

"Mr.  Alden?  I  am  Henry  Mayne  of  the 
'Palladium.'  My  editor  has  sent  me  on  a 
matter  of  extreme  importance." 

Though  the  last  thing  desired  by  Denys 
was  an  interview,  yet  not  only  was  he  system 
atically  courteous  to  all  pressmen,  but  to-day, 
particularly,  he  foresaw  that  he  might  need 
their  kind  offices. 

"  Unfortunately,  I  am  on  my  way  to  an  ap 
pointment,"  he  answered.  "But  I  can  give 
you  five  minutes,  Mr.  Mayne." 

The  journalist  looked  him  in  the  eye  with  a 
confidence  he  did  not  altogether  feel. 

"I  came  to  inquire  concerning  the  disap 
pearance  of  Monsieur  Tolna." 

Mayne  had  known  Mrs.  Burnham  ever 
since  they  had  made  mud-pies  together,  and 
she  had  helped  him  to  "scoops"  more  than 


FURTHER  TRIBULATIONS      259 

once.  Her  letter  might  be  a  practical  joke 
—  yet  a  practical  joke  which  would  get  him 
into  trouble  with  his  chief  was  not  like  her 
good-nature.  He  believed  her.  But  as  she 
refused  him  any  further  help,  he  could  only 
pretend  to  a  knowledge  which  he  might  thus 
hope  to  gain.  Mr.  Alden's  unmistakable  start 
was  encouraging  in  spite  of  his  prompt  denial. 

"  Exactly  so,"  politely  assented  Mr.  Mayne ; 
"  I  am  very  glad  to  be  assured  that  it 's  a  hoax. 
Ugly  rumors  are  afloat,  which  the  'Palla 
dium  '  will  be  happy  to  contradict.  For  our 
readers'  satisfaction,  I  suppose  that  I  may  see 
Monsieur  Tolna  for  a  moment." 

"  I  regret  to  say  that  it  is  quite  impossible. 
Monsieur  Tolna  is  worn  out  with  the  strain  of 
his  winter's  work,  and  as  he  is  soon  to  face  his 
first  appearance  as  Roland,  his  physician  has 
ordered  perfect  quiet." 

"  No  doubt  a  wise  precaution.  But  I  don't 
ask  to  speak  with  him,  Mr.  Alden.  I  simply 
ask  to  see  him." 

"You  must  yourself  admit  that  I  cannot 
disobey  the  doctor's  orders,  Mr.  Mayne." 

"  Frightful  old  martinets,  these  doctors. 
Who  is  Monsieur  Tolna's  physician?" 

"  Is  that  any  business  of  the  '  Palladium's ' 
readers?" 


260  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLXA 

'  You  see,"  Mr.  Mayne  explained  gently, 
"an  explicit  statement  in  our  columns  that 
Monsieur  Tolna  has  just  been  seen  in  his 
home  by  our  representative  would  at  once  give 
the  lie  to  the  reports  which  are  certain  to  be 
circulated  in  the  evening  papers.  A  state 
ment  that  Mr.  Alden  says  that  Monsieur 
Tolna  is  at  home  might,  conceivably,  not  carry 
the  same  weight.  A  statement  from  Mon 
sieur  Tolna's  doctor,  a  physician  in  good 
standing,  would  be  conclusive." 

"  Will  you  tell  me,  in  plain  English,  what 
are  these  preposterous  rumors  that  seem  to 
have  imposed  upon  you? " 

"  I  will  be  as  open  with  you  as  you  are  with 
me,  my  dear  sir.  In  one  minute,  if  you  are  so 
disposed,  you  can  nail  them  all  as  lies. 

Denys  had  at  first  suspected  that  the  run 
away  himself  had  taken  the  "  Palladium " 
into  his  confidence.  But  in  that  case  the 
journalist  need  not  have  come  to  him  for  con 
firmation  or  denial.  His  quick  wit  now  as 
sured  him  that  some  one  whom  the  editor  did 
not  entirely  trust  had  hinted  at  a  sensational 
escapade.  He  replied  with  much  earnestness : 

"  I  should  like  extremely  to  know  who  dis 
covered  this  mare's  nest." 


FURTHER  TRIBULATIONS      261 

"  Convince  me  that  it  is  a  mare's  nest  and  I 
will  tell  you  with  the  greatest  pleasure." 

Denys  laughed. 

"Most  certainly  not,  my  dear  sir.  It  is 
much  better  business  to  let  the  '  Palladium '  go 
ahead.  Wild  rumors  about  operatic  stars  do 
them  no  harm.  Print  whatever  you  like,  Mr. 
Mayne." 

"  I  shall  print  what  I  believe  to  be  the  truth. 
It  is  the  business  of  the  'Palladium'  to  let 
daylight  into  dark  corners." 

Denys  laughed  again. 

"  Considering  all  the  free  advertising  that 
Monsieur  Tolna  is  about  to  secure,  it  would  be 
folly  to  show  him  to  you  lying  snugly  in  his 
bed.  When  the  news  of  his  disappearance  is 
published  I  shall  be  very  happy  to  exhibit  him 
to  all — authorized  inquirers." 

"  And  make  the  '  Palladium '  look  silly." 

"  How  the  '  Palladium '  may  look  depends 
on  itself." 

"  The  '  Palladium,' "  said  its  representative, 
sententiously,  "never  flinches  in  the  path  of 
duty." 

"Most  interesting,"  remarked  Denys, 
approvingly.  "Is  it  permitted  to  inquire 
if  this  Munchausen  tale  of  yours  is  in  pro- 


262  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

cess  of  manufacture  as  a  Sunday  bonne 
bouche? 

"  In  the  interests  of  the  unhappy  artist,  and 
of  the  public,  we  shall  publish  our  investiga 
tions  as  soon  as  we  are  able  to  verify  them  to 
the  utmost  of  our  ability.  The  '  Palladium ' 
is  nothing  if  not  conservative,  Mr.  Alden." 

Denys  laughed  for  the  third  time.  "Ah, 
yes;  I  thought  this  meant  a  Sunday  sensa 
tion,"  he  affirmed. 

Mr.  Mayne  suffered  the  mirth  with  unim 
paired  urbanity. 

"  What  is  the  old  saw  about  the  best  laugh  ? " 
he  drawled;  then  abruptly  strode  over  to  the 
smilax  emblem,  which  Gichera,  hastening  to 
leave  the  two  gentlemen  alone,  had  forgotten 
to  take  away.  Raising  the  label,  he  read  aloud 
Denys's  name.  "A  green  lyre.  What  a 
singularly  appropriate  tribute!" 

As  the  door  closed  after  him,  Mr.  Alden 
stood  knitting  his  brows,  vaguely  trying  to 
read  a  meaning  into  this  idiotic  remark,  but 
preoccupied  with  more  serious  perplexities. 
Yesterday,  so  painfully  begun,  had  moved  as 
miserably  on.  After  Hirt's  visit,  Denys  had 
betaken  himself  to  the  bank  where  both  Mau 
rice  and  he  kept  accounts,  and  easily  made  ex 
cuse  to  ascertain  whether  Monsieur  Tolna  had 


FURTHER  TRIBULATIONS      263 

cashed  a  check  that  morning.  It  was  less  easy 
to  look  unconcerned  when  he  learned  that  the 
tenor  had,  an  hour  or  two  earlier,  drawn  five 
thousand  dollars. 

"  I  came  very  near  not  giving  it  to  him,  Mr. 
Alden,"  the  smiling  teller  explained.  "  How 
different  he  does  look  without  his  wig !  I  was 
so  used  to  seeing  him  come  in  here  with  that 
mane  of  hair,  and  an  overcoat  all  fur  and 
frogs  and  braid,  and  a  footman  to  open  the 
door,  that  when  a  business  young  man  with 
cropped  hair  and  a  reefer  slipped  up  to  the 
window  and  said,  "  Good  morning,  Mr. 
White,"  and  went  on  to  tell  me  how  he  'd  take 
the  money — why,  I  was  all  at  sea.  For  one 
thing,  he  hardly  ever  opened  his  mouth  when 
you  came  with  him,  and  I  had  no  idea  that  he 
spoke  such  good  English.  Perfectly  wonder 
ful  for  a  foreigner,  is  n't  it?  So  little  accent. 
Before  I  said  a  word  he  caught  the  expression 
of  my  eye,  and  he  laughed  and  said,  '  It  is  my 
long  hair  you  miss.  I  'm  disguised  as  a  pri 
vate  citizen  to-day.  But  I  '11  do  you  any 
number  of  signatures  with  all  the  old  flour 
ishes.'  Of  course,  after  I  had  studied  his  face 
I  knew  it  was  all  right ;  but  upon  my  word,  if 
I  had  passed  him  in  the  street,  I  should  n't 
have  recognized  him." 


264  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 


,  Mr.  Alden  faced  the  humiliating  ne 
cessity  of  confessing  to  the  Confidential 
Agent  that,  unwittingly,  he  had  misrepre 
sented  his  case;  the  theory  of  kidnapping  or 
foul  play  yielding  to  the  fact  that  the  missing 
man  had  voluntarily  disappeared.  No  evi 
dence  having  been  adduced  in  support  of  this 
improbable  tale,  —  Maurice's  note,  in  English, 
not  being  admissible,—  Mr.  Dunning  became 
the  more  assured  that  the  whole  story  was  an 
advertising  swindle.  His  manner,  thereupon, 
took  on  an  impertinence  which  his  client  did 
not  in  the  least  understand,  but  which  he  in 
tensely  resented,  ascribing  it  to  the  character 
istic  insolence  of  the  American  lower  classes, 
and  adding  one  more  entry  to  the  already  long 
list  of  his  native  land's  offenses. 

Night  brought  him  little  rest;  morning,  no 
fresh  hope.  In  vain  had  the  vigilant  Dun 
ning  watched  trains  and  ferries.  And,  in 
deed,  from  the  beginning  had  poor  Denys  rec 
ognized  the  enormous  difficulty  of  detection 
when  there  has  been  no  crime.  To  run  down 
a  band  of  criminals  was,  he  quite  understood, 
simplicity  itself  compared  with  the  task  of 
finding  an  inoffensive  citizen  who,  looking, 
speaking,  and  acting  like  the  majority  of  his 
fellows,  does  not  choose  to  be  found. 


FURTHER  TRIBULATIONS      265 

He  well  knew  how  Maurice's  difference 
from  the  common  herd  had  been  cunningly 
exaggerated  by  careful  eccentricities  of  dress, 
custom,  and  manner;  how  the  boy's  good 
looks,  summed  up  in  an  admirable  figure^  dis 
tinguished  bearing,  fine  eyes,  finished  fea 
tures,  and  a  brilliant  smile,  had  been  subli 
mated  by  picturesque  clothes  and  picturesque 
description  into  aristocratic  beauty.  A  mer 
cantile  Maurice,  with  cropped  hair,  ready- 
made  garments,  and  a  derby  hat,  would  not 
noticeably  diverge  from  the  type  of  muscular 
young  American  at  the  next  desk.  The  five 
thousand  dollars  drawn — Denys  noted  that 
there  remained  in  bank  the  exact  amount  of 
the  singer's  forfeit  if  he  failed  to  keep  his  re 
maining  dates— was  doubtless  the  capital 
which  he  meant  to  put  into  business  in  some 
one  of  the  hundreds  of  prosperous  cities  in  the 
United  States.  Like  those  bark-brown  or 
lichen-green  insects  that  safely  hide  them 
selves  on  stem  or  leaf,  Maurice  would  be  per 
fectly  protected  by  his  indistinguishability 
f  rom^the  surrounding  mass. 

Before  the  impertinent  advent  of  Mr. 
Mayne,  Denys  had  been  forced  to  admit  to 
himself  that  his  secret  could  not  much  longer 
remain  secret.  But  the  reporter,  it  was  plain, 


266  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

however  his  clue  had  been  obtained,  did  not 
suspect  a  case  of  wilful  disappearance.  It 
might  not  yet  be  too  late  to  recover  Maurice 
before  Sunday,  or,  if  the  '  Palladium's ' 
penny-dreadful  could  not  be  forestalled,  to 
publish,  on  Monday,  a  triumphant  refutation 
thereof,  signed  by  the  hero  of  its  gasconading 
inventions.  And  even  in  his  growing  distress 
of  mind,  Denys,  ashamed  of  his  capacity  to  do 
so,  recognized  the  professional  value  of  the 
publicity  thus  thrust  upon  them  both.  "  By 
heaven,"  he  groaned  aloud,  "  I  believe  that  I 
am  ready  to  coin  my  heart  and  drop  my  blood 
for  drachmas,  in  another  sense  than  Brutus's. 
And  yet  I  know  that  I  would  give  everything 
I  possess  to  get  the  boy  back,  if  he  should 
never  sing  another  note.  Dunning  must  find 
him!" 

But  so  little,  after  all,  did  he  hope  from  the 
detectives,  that,  sick  at  heart,  he  sat  down  at 
once  to  frame  an  appeal  for  the  "  personal " 
column  of  the  "  Herald." 

M. — How  can  you  break  an  agreement?  «  Come 
back,  and  nothing  further  shall  be  said  on  the  sub 
ject  you  dislike.  D. 

This  labored  production  finished,  he  sur- 


FURTHER  TRIBULATIONS      267 

veyed  it  with  contempt.  Of  course  Maurice 
would  not  believe  it.  Maurice  knew  him  too 
well  to  suppose  that  he  would  ever  throw  over 
Margery's  happiness.  Even  now,  he  felt  sure 
that  in  one  frank  talk  he  could  set  the  matter 
in  the  proper  light.  He  had  thought  of  so 
many  compelling  arguments.  Yet  how  un 
fold  these  arguments,  if  he  could  not  recall 
the  fugitive?  How  recall  him  except  by 
pledges  of  immunity  from  the  persecution 
which  had  driven  him  forth?  Denys  tore  his 
appeal  into  shreds,  disgusted  alike  with  its  dis 
honesty  and  its  futility. 

The  whirring  of  the  telephone-bell  reprieved 
him.  But  his  hope  of  a  message  from  Mau 
rice  was  checked  by  the  sound  of  Margery's 
voice,  veiled  with  anxiety. 

"  Is  it  Mr.  Alden?  Is  Monsieur  Tolna  bet 
ter?" 

He  seemed  to  himself  to  be  blushing  from 
head  to  foot  at  the  meanness  of  allowing  this 
lovely  sympathy  to  waste  itself  on  a  delusion. 
But  he  knew  that  he  was  caught  and  held  in 
the  meshes  of  his  earlier  fabrications. 

"  Better,  Miss  Fanning,"  he  constrained 
himself  to  say.  "  He  will  see  you  in  a  day  or 
two — as  soon  as  the  doctor  permits." 

"  Mother  and  I  have  been  distressed  about 


268  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

you,  Mr.  Alden.  I  told  her  that  your  voice 
sounded  anxious  and  tired." 

Denys's  heart  jumped.  It  was  much  that 
she  thought  of  him  at  all. 

"  I  have  been  worried,"  he  answered,  truly 
enough.  "But  really  there  's  nothing  to 
worry  about.  Maurice's  trouble  is  more  men 
tal  than  physical.  In  a  few  days — " 

"  All  will  be  well  with  him,"  Margery  fin 
ished  softly.  She  was  finding  it  more  difficult 
than  she  expected  to  assume  the  melting  mood 
over  a  telephone.  After  a  moment  she  went 
on. 

"  Mr.  Alden,  I  know  that  you  are  my  friend 
as  well  as  his.  Will  you  tell  him — not  from 
me,  of  course,  but  from  yourself,  or  from  mo 
ther — that — that  he  must  not  allow  anxiety 
to  make  him  ill?" 

"  I — Miss  Fanning — I  can't  give  that  mes 
sage,"  Denys  stammered,  perceiving  that  if 
he  pretended  to  report  their  conversation  she 
would  expect  Maurice  instantly  at  her  door. 
"  I  can't  help  him.  He  must  work  out  his  own 
salvation."  His  voice  had  a  bitterness  which 
he  could  not  repress. 

"You — you  won't — "  Margery  faltered. 
Her  voice  changed.  Then  the  sound  of  a 
stifled  sob  came  over  the  wire. 


FURTHER  TRIBULATIONS      269 

He  had  thought  her  messages  in  bad  taste, 
most  unlike  her,  but  now  compunction  smote 
him.  It  was  he  who  was  in  fault,  he  alone, 
he  assured  himself. 

"Margery,  dear  Margery,"  he  cried  out, 
against  a  blank  wall  of  silence.  The  stricken 
deer  had  fled. 

Piteously  he  implored  Central  for  the  con 
nection,  this  time  to  be  answered  by  the  butler. 

"  I  will  see  if  Miss  Fanning  is  at  'ome,  sir. 
'Oo  shall  I  say,  sir?" 

Presently  the  same  impassive  voice  spoke 
again. 

"  Miss  Fanning  regrets,  sir,  that  she  does  not 
wish  to  come  to  the  telephone  at  present." 

Denys  guessed  the  regret  to  have  been  in 
serted  by  the  courteous  Higgins.  It  hardly 
fitted  the  rest  of  the  message.  He  had 
wounded  and  angered  the  girl  for  whom  he 
would  lay  down  his  life.  He  snatched  up  his 
hat  to  go  to  her,  then  flung  it  aside  again. 
What  could  he  say? 

Did  Napoleon  at  St.  Helena  at  once  accept 
the  life  of  a  country  gentleman  on  an  isolated 
estate,  or  did  his  brain  balk  before  the  sen 
tence  that  for  him  history  was  over?  Did  he 
for  months,  for  years,  against  probability, 
against  knowledge,  look  for  his  scattered  le- 


270  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

gions  to  reunite,  to  sweep  Europe,  to  set  him 
back  on  his  throne?  The  mind  of  that  younger 
Napoleon,  Denys  Alden,  seemed  not  more 
capable  of  grasping  the  concept  of  defeat. 
He  had  set  his  will  to  the  scheme  of  marrying 
Maurice  and  Margery  till  the  determination 
had  become  an  idee  fixe.  His  brain  refused 
to  move  in  any  other  direction.  He  could  not 
plan  what  he  would  do  in  case  Maurice  never 
surrendered.  He  could  not  admit,  even  to 
himself,  that  Maurice  would  not  surrender. 

Time  wore  miserably  on.  Even  Dunning, 
slipping  in  on  Saturday  morning  with  a  new 
list  of  preposterous  clues,  was  startled  out  of 
his  assurance  by  the  haggard  face  confront 
ing  him,  and  became  almost  persuaded  that 
his  employer's  incredible  tale  might  prove 
true. 

In  the  afternoon,  and  again  at  night, 
Denys's  wanderings  took  him  to  the  Opera- 
House — why,  he  could  not  have  told.  Once 
there,  he  skulked  in  corners  to  avoid  acquaint 
ances,  and  listened  intently  for  the  sound  of 
the  voice  which  he  knew  he  should  not  hear. 

Three  nights  of  almost  sleepless  tossing  had 
been  followed  by  three  days  of  ever  growing 
anxiety.  Finally,  toward  morning  on  the 
fourth  day  of  his  loss,  he  dropped  into  the 


FURTHER  TRIBULATIONS      271 

deep  sleep  of  exhaustion,  from  which  he  was 
roused  by  a  vision  of  Hirt  standing  over  him, 
purple-faced  and  incoherent,  brandishing  a 
newspaper  in  his  colleague's  face,  the  porten 
tous  figure  taking  shape,  at  first,  only  as  the 
figment  of  a  feverish  dream. 

"Read  that!"  Hirt  gasped,  thrusting  half 
a  page  of  head-lines  under  Denys's  startled 
eyes. 

KIDNAPPED? 

Hungarian  Nightingale  Disappears. 


TOLNA   LURED    FROM    OPERA-HOUSE. 

One  of  those  strange  happenings  in  real  life  which 
put  to  the  blush  the  most  dramatic  of  fictionists 
transpired  in  our  midst  on  Wednesday  night,  behind 
the  scenes  of  the  Metropolitan  Opera-House.  Mon 
sieur  Tolna  (who,  last  December,  won  the  first  prize 
of  an  automobile  in  the  "  Palladium's  "  voting  con 
test  for  stage  favorites)  was  in  his  dressing-room  at 
the  close  of  the  performance  of  "  Faust,"  when  his 
call-boy  brought  him  a  note.  The  boy,  Johnny 
Geogahan,  who  resides  with  his  parents  at  5011 
Tenth  Avenue,  states  that  the  note  was  handed  to  him 
at  the  stage  door  by  a  shabby-looking  stranger,  a 
small  dark  man  of  foreign  appearance,  smooth- 
shaven,  about  forty-five  years  old,  who  seemed  very 
nervous  and  excited.  As  he  handed  over  the  letter 
the  boy  noticed  that  the  middle  finger  was  missing 


272  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

from  his  right  hand.  Upon  reading  it,  Monsieur 
Tolna  seized  his  hat  and,  without  even  waiting  to  put 
on  the  sable-lined  overcoat  he  invariably  wears, 
rushed  out  into  the  street  and  disappeared  across 
Seventh  Avenue.  Besides  the  boy,  the  only  other 
person  in  his  dressing-room  was  his  French  valet, 
Fran9ois  Fournier.  Fournier  started  after  his  mas 
ter,  followed  by  the  boy.  At  Seventh  Avenue  the  two 
men  were  swallowed  up  in  the  block  of  carriages. 
Johnny  Geogahan,  losing  the  trail,  returned  to  the 
Opera-House  to  find  Mr.  Denys  Alden,  Tolna's  man 
ager,  explaining  to  a  group  about  the  door  that  he 
could  not  explain  Tolna's  action.  Mr.  Alden  does 
not  seem  to  have  made  any  attempt  to  follow  him. 
Soon  after,  he  went  away  with  friends  in  his  automo 
bile.  About  this  time  the  valet,  Fournier,  came  back, 
stating  that  he  had  lost  sight  of  Tolna.  He  also 
stated  that  he  had  been  discharged. 

On  Friday  afternoon,  at  199  East  Thirty-fifth 
Street,  where  Tolna  lives  with  Manager  Alden,  the 
Japanese  butler  stated  that  Monsieur  Tolna  did  not 
return  home  on  Wednesday  night,  and  had  not  yet 
done  so.  Mr.  Alden  denied  the  butler's  information, 
stating  that  the  missing  gentleman  was  up-stairs  in 
bed,  suffering  from  nervous  prostration.  He  re 
fused,  however,  to  allow  the  "  Palladium's  "  repre 
sentative  to  go  up,  nor  would  he  give  the  name  of 
the  physician  in  attendance,  although  emphatically 
stating  that  Tolna  was  under  medical  care.  No 
physician  entered  the  house  during  the  evening  or 


FURTHER  TRIBULATIONS     273 

yesterday,  but  about  ten  o'clock  on  Saturday  James 
L.  Dunning,  of  Private  Inquiry  Office  fame,  was  in 
the  house  for  half  an  hour.  He  refused  to  state  the 
nature  of  his  business,  but  when  asked  whether  he 
was  employed  to  take  Monsieur  Tolna's  temperature, 
admitted  that  he  was  not. 

Many  theories  have  been  advanced  to  account  for 
Monsieur  Tolna's  disappearance.  As  he  spoke  no 
English;  lived  the  life  of  a  hermit;  had,  as  far  as 
can  be  ascertained,  no  acquaintance  in  New  York,  a 
motive  for  intentional  disappearance  is  far  to  seek. 
If  the  inevitable  woman  figures  in  the  case,  so  far  she 
has  not  betrayed  herself.  The  discharged  valet  may 
thirst  for  revenge.  Monsieur  Tolna's  ignorance  of 
the  English  language  may  make  him  an  easy  victim 
to  kidnappers  who  hold  the  golden-voiced  songster 
for  ransom.  But  it  is  believed  that  the  mystery  is 
even  deeper,  the  plot  more  far-reaching.  No  one  is 
more  obnoxious  to  the  crafty  old  man  on  the  totter 
ing  throne  of  Austro-Hungary  than  the  fervid  and 
patriotic  friend  of  Liberty,  Maurus  Tolna.  The 
Austrian  Secret  Service  has  a  long  arm.  Was  the 
man  with  the  missing  finger  an  emissary  of  Francis 
Joseph's  hate?  Has  the  blood  of  the  Hungarian 
Nightingale  swelled  the  dark  river  of  burnt-offerings 
to  a  tyrant's  pride  ?  " 


Denys  hardly  knew  whether  to  be  most  as 
tonished,  most  angry,  or  most  amused.     In 

18 


274  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

his  wildest  imaginations  he  had  not  antici 
pated  such  a  farrago  as  this. 

:'  What  amazing  nonsense!"  he  exclaimed. 
"  First  I  have  made  way  with  Maurice. 
Then  Fran£ois  is  nodded  at.  Then  the  Aus 
trian  secret  service  has  done  it.  Am  I — what 
is  it— 'an  emissary  of  the  Emperor's  hate?' 
Pshaw!  my  dear  fellow,  only  a  congenital 
idiot  would  pay  the  slightest  attention  to  such 
rubbish." 

"I  shall  bring  that  lying  pig  here  to  see 
Tolna  with  his  own  eyes.  And  first  I  shall 
see  him  myself!" 

"But  the  doctor  says—" 

"  Damn  the  doctor!   I  go  to  Tolna  now." 

"  I  wish  you  could,  Hirt.  He  isn't  here. 
He  did  bolt,  Wednesday  night." 

Hirt's  ruddy  face  turned  purple.  He 
slapped  the  paper  with  a  shaking  hand. 

"Then  this— this— " 

"Not  that  idiocy  about  a  three-fingered 
foreigner.  But  he  did  slip  out  of  the  Opera 
House  without  my  knowledge,  and  I  have  n't 
seen  him  since.  I  have  put  the  best  private 
detective  in  New  York  on  the  case." 

"My  God!   Foul  play?" 

"  No,"  Denys  answered  shortly.  Out  of 
bed  by  this  time,  he  took  Maurice's  note  from 


FURTHER  TRIBULATIONS      275 

his  waistcoat  pocket  and  handed  it  to  Hirt,  re 
joicing  for  once  in  the  luxury  of  frankness. 

"So!   You  two  had  quarreled?" 

"About  a  private  matter." 

"When?" 

"  The  day  before  he  last  sang." 

Every  vestige  of  Hirt's  anxiety  melted  into 
satisfaction.  He  saw  nothing  in  the  message 
to  make  him  doubt  Maurice's  return. 

"  Did  you  speak  with  Tolna  after  the  opera, 
Wednesday?"  he  asked. 

"  I  did  not  even  see  him." 

Hirt's  eyes,  still  downcast  on  the  paper, 
twinkled.  If  the  quarrel  antedated  Mau 
rice's  pledge  to  sing  on  Monday  evening,  and 
therefore  could  not  upset  that,  Hirt  looked  on 
it  as  an  unmixed  boon.  He  had  always  heart 
ily  objected  to  the  unusual  arrangement  of 
dealing  with  his  star  through  an  intermediary, 
had  always  disliked  the  continual  presence  be 
hind  the  scenes  of  an  interloper— still  worse, 
a  most  accomplished  and  highly  critical  inter 
loper — not  under  his  own  sway.  He  had 
begged  Maurice  to  remember  that  he  was 
neither  a  prize-fighter  nor  a  hotel,  that  he 
should  need  a  manager ;  but  the  singer's  placid 
refusal  to  sign  any  contract  that  did  not 
specifically  allow  him  Mr.  Alden  had  con- 


276  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

quered  opposition.  A  quarrel  between  the  in 
separables  was  therefore  good  hearing  to 
Hirt. 

Too  absorbed  in  his  own  difficulties  to  no 
tice  Hirt's  recovered  placidity,  Denys  ex 
plained  the  situation. 

"  He  has  run  away  in  a  fit  of  petulance,  of 
pique.  Nobody  knows  better  than  you,  Hirt, 
the  vagaries  of  the  temperament,  the  lunacies 
that  we  who  live  with  geniuses  must  wink  at, 
for  the  sake  of  the  genius.  I  am  leaving  no 
thing  undone  to  find  him,  but  it  must  be  done 
privately.  You  see  how  necessary  it  is  to  keep 
this  freak  from  public  knowledge.  Oh,  I 
shall  bring  him  back."  In  answer  to  a  cer 
tain  blankness  in  Hirt's  face,  his  voice  rose 
sharply.  "  Hirt,  you  don't  believe  that  I  am 
doing  everything  possible?  Think  how  much 
you  have  at  stake — your  season  ruined  with 
out  him,  your  reputation  injured,  your  re 
sources  impaired.  Then  know  that  his  disap 
pearance  means  ten  times  more  to  me." 

His  eager  speech  was  rounded  off  by  the 
jangle  of  the  telephone-bell,  modernity's 
punctuation  to  passion.  Collecting  himself 
with  an  effort  to  answer  the  call—"  Central, 
for  you,  Hirt,"  he  reported,  and  retreated  to 
the  register,  where  he  stood  shaking  partly 


FURTHER  TRIBULATIONS      277 

with  cold  from  the  open  window,  partly  with 
the  intensity  of  his  anxiety.  Presently  be 
coming  aware  of  the  icy  draft,  he  closed  the 
sash,  got  into  his  wadded  dressing-gown,  and 
summoned  Gichera.  Hirt's  messages  did  not 
concern  him.  Nothing  concerned  him  but  the 
effect  of  this  new  fable  on  Margery. 

"Is  this  Mr.  Hirt?"  a  girl  inquired;  then, 
after  a  moment's  pause,  came  a  laughing 
masculine  voice:  "Is  this  Herr  Hirt?  I 
tried  to  call  you  up  at  the  Fortieth-street  shop, 
knowing  your  Sunday  habits ;  but  your  secre 
tary  said  that  you  were  round  at  our  place.  I 
made  the  hello  girl  ask  for  you  because  I  don't 
want  Alden  to  get  his  talons  on  my  holiday. 
Hirt,  I  thought  you  might  possibly  be  upset 
by  that  *  Palladium'  lunacy.  And  Alden 
can't  tell  you  where  I  am  because  he  does  n't 
know.  I  'm  staying  at  the  Savoy,  under  my 
own  name — nobody  on  my  trail,  meals  in  my 
own  room,  hours  of  my  own  making — care 
free,  lazy,  and  generally  all  right.  I  was 
never  in  better  voice  in  my  life.  I  '11  sing  you 
the  nightingales  off  their  rose-bushes  to-mor 
row  night.  But  don't  you  give  me  away, 
Hirt !  I  could  n't  get  such  a  rest  if  the  friend 
of  my  soul  knew  my  street  and  number." 
"  I  have  told  you  many  times  that  you  would 


278  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

do  better  alone — many  times,"  Hirt  answered 
solemnly.  The  voice  laughed  and  cried,  "  To 
morrow!"  and  Hirt  heard  the  click  of  a  re 
ceiver  hung  up. 

He  turned  from  the  instrument  to  Alden 
shivering  over  the  newly-lighted  fire;  noted 
the  black  rings  around  the  eyes,  the  sharp 
movements,  the  bitten  finger-nails.  But  he 
viewed  this  picture  of  misery  with  an  appre 
ciation  untinged  with  pity.  At  last  his  mo 
ment  had  come  to  triumph  over  the  Favorite, 
to  say,  "  Yes,  you  are  Monsieur  Tolna's  alter 
ego,  his  indispensable  manager ;  but  while  you 
are  frightening  yourself  sick  over  his  disap 
pearance,  behold  me,  the  humble  Hirt,  all  the 
while  in  his  secrets ! "  His  mouth  was  open  to 
utter  the  derisive  words  when  he  shut  it  with 
decision.  After  all,  like  the  Mikado,  he  found 
that  he  preferred  something  humorous  and 
lingering.  "I  go  to  the  police,"  he  said  sim 
ply,  and  withdrew  with  the  ponderous  dignity 
of  one  of  his  own  Nibelungen  gods. 

Had  Denys  had  his  wits  about  him,  he 
might  have  wondered  at  the  sudden  cessation 
of  Hirt's  ravings,  but  his  mind  seemed  to  take 
no  cognizance  of  Hirt.  As  he  dressed  me 
chanically,  his  whole  being  was  listening  for 
the  next  ring  of  the  telephone.  Last  time  it 


FURTHER   TRIBULATIONS     279 

had  not   brought  his   death-warrant.     This 
time  it  must  do  so. 

The  day  passed,  however,  much  as  yester 
day  had  done.  More  false  clues  were  brought 
to  him  to  be  re j  ected.  He  went  out  and  came 
in  almost  aimlessly.  It  was  nearly  dark  when 
the  belated  summons  rang,  and  he  took  down 
the  receiver,  half  praying  for  a  new  reprieve, 
half -hoping  for  the  voice  he  dreaded,  that  at 
least  the  strain  of  waiting  might  be  over. 

It  was,  indeed,  Margery. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Alden,  we  have  been  out  of  town 
to-day.  We  have  just  heard.  Of  course  you 
have  seen  the  paper?  " 

'  Yes,  Miss  Fanning;  but  I  am  glad  to  tell 
you  that  there  is  n't  a  word  of  truth  in  it." 

"He  is  n't  gone  away?  Oh,  Mr.  Alden,  I 
shall  ask  mother  to  bring  me  down." 

"But  the  doctor's  orders — "  Denys  bog 
gled  miserably. 

"  I  won't  speak  to  him.  I  don't  wish  to  see 
him.  But  don't  you  understand  that  we  must 
have  an  explanation  with  you?  You  have  let 
the  whole  day  go  by.  It  seems  not  to  have 
occurred  to  you  that  I  might  feel  some  con 
cern  about  this  story — might  even  suffer — " 

He  knew  very  well  what  he  suffered  him 
self.  To  face  her  frank  preference  for  Mau- 


280  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

rice  was  pleasure  in  comparison  to  facing  her 
discovery  of  his  own  deceit. 

"  Not  that  we  doubt  your  word,"  Margery 
went  on.  "  But  for  four  days  mother  and  I 
have  expected  him — in  vain.  Mr.  Alden, 
either  there  is  something  dreadfully  wrong 
about  this  matter,  or — " 

The  alternative  was  lost  in  silence.  Futile 
plans  dazzled  upon  Denys's  vision  like  the 
tangled  fancies  of  delirium — excuses  to  keep 
her  away;  half-truths  to  account  for  the 
tenor's  absence;  changing  possibilities  which 
danced  like  will-o'-the-wisps  before  his  fe 
vered  brain,  leaving  him  helpless  to  grasp  at 
any. 

"Mr.  Alden,"  the  girl's  voice  repeated, 
"shall  we  come?" 

'Yes,  come — no,  you — I — I  mean —  The 
doctor  says  to-morrow— I— I—"  His  words 
broke  off  in  stammerings.  Tossing  back  his 
hair  in  the  old  familiar  gesture,  he  felt  his 
forehead  damp.  A  moment  he  stood  there, 
feeling  utterly  befogged,  helpless,  powerless 
to  think.  Then,  with  a  new  note  in  his  voice, 
he  spoke  into  the  receiver. 

"  Miss  Fanning,  wait.  Don't  go  out.  I  am 
coming  immediately  to  see  you." 


CHAPTER  XV 

MR.  SMITH'S  FIANCEE 

NOW  my  notion  for  our  own  sitting-room 
would  be  something  cheerful  and  cozy," 
Willie  Smith  pronounced.  "What  's  your 
idea,  Honor?  " 

"  I  am  too  tired  to  have  any  ideas,"  the 
girl  answered,  emphasizing  her  indifference 
by  retreating  to  the  window-seat  at  the  far  end 
of  the  room. 

His  fiancee  and  her  mother  had  lunched 
with  Mr.  Smith  at  Sherry's,  to  the  interest  of 
the  whole  dining-room  and  the  consequent 
satisfaction  of  Willoughby.  Afterward  they 
had  spent  three  weary  hours  tramping  up  and 
down  the  echoing  rooms  of  the  new  palace, 
where  Mrs.  Hammond  proved  herself  as  inde 
fatigable  as  admirable.  An  inborn  genius 
for  decorative  art,  trained  by  life  with  an 
architect,  gave  her  a  genuine  predilection 
among  many  assumed  ones.  It  was  her  great 
est  pleasure  to  advise  the  arrangement  of  any- 

281 


282  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

body's  house.  When  the  house  was  a  mansion 
for  her  daughter,  pleasure  became  rapture. 
Willoughby  Smith's  artistic  theories  were  the 
despair  of  his  architects.  Mrs.  Hammond 
could  have  given  these  exasperated  gentlemen 
a  lesson  in  diplomacy. 

Honor  had  not  her  mother's  enthusiasm  for 
color-schemes.  Indeed,  she  was  singularly 
free  from  enthusiasms  of  any  sort.  Yet  she 
had  expected  to  enjoy  planning  the  rooms 
that  were  to  be  hers.  Unaccountably,  she  had 
not  enjoyed  it.  An  hour  ago  she  had  reached 
the  stage  of  boredom  where  she  ceased  to 
speak  unless  directly  questioned,  and  now  she 
could  not  even  answer  with  civility.  She  won 
dered,  as  she  remembered  the  Rembrandts  in 
the  library,  the  ruby  on  her  finger,  what  was 
the  matter  with  her.  Her  emotions  seemed 
to  have  been  frost-bitten  in  her  childhood. 

The  mother's  smile  covered  the  daughter's 
rudeness. 

"  Poor  girl,  she  is  worn  out.  She  is  n't  used 
to  thirteen  reception-rooms.  As  for  me,  I 
could  never  feel  fatigue  of  body  or  mind  while 
I  am  planning  a  nest  for  my  child — my  two 
dear  children.  And  then  it  's  an  inspiration 
to  work  with  you,  Willoughby.  So  stimulat 
ing!" 


MR.  SMITH'S  FIANCEE        283 

If  difficulties  stimulate,  she  was  quite  sin 
cere,  and  certainly  Willoughby  was  gratified. 

"  For  a  fellow  who  's  never  given  the  sub 
ject  any  study,  I  think  I  have  a  good  many 
striking  ideas." 

"  Indeed,  yes,"  the  lady  agreed,  again  with 
perfect  sincerity. 

"  Now  for  this  room,  you  see,  Mrs.  Ham 
mond.  Down-stairs,  you  know,  that  subdued 
coloring,  sort  of  classic  thingumbob,  is  all 
right;  but  this  room  ought  to  be  different." 

"  Such  quick  perception  of  fundamental 
principles !  "  Mrs.  Hammond  called  the  walls 
to  witness.  "  Of  course  the  formal  style  of 
your  public  rooms  would  not  express  the  spirit 
of  this  intimate  resting-place,  this  casket  of 
domestic  sanctities." 

Honor  moved  uneasily,  as  if  she  found 
the  window-seat  hard. 

"  Rugs  are  all  right  down-stairs ;  of  course 
they  're  the  correct  thing.  But  I  hate  'em, 
Mrs.  Hammond ;  scrappy  things,  always  slid 
ing  round.  And  I  don't  admire  Oriental 
patterns,  really.  Up  here  I  'm  going  to  have 
a  handsome  pile  carpet.  My  mother  's  got  one 
in  her  parlor  that  's  about  the  slickest  thing. 
Specially  woven  for  her,  with  baskets  of 
flowers  on  it,  and  no  two  alike.  You  could 


284  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

put  in  a  whole  morning  examining  the  differ 
ent  kinds  of  flowers  in  that  pattern." 

"  How  very  ingenious!  And  was  that  one 
of  your  own  ideas,  Willoughby?  It  sounds 
so  like  you.  I  must  see  your  mother's  carpet 
when  I  return  her  visit.  But  it  will  take  some 
months  to  weave  one,  won't  it?  Meantime 
there  's  that  superb  Chinese  rug  you  wanted 
a  place  for— that  pale  brown  and  white  one. 
Now  with  walls  in  white,  paneled  with  warm 
yellow,  and  those  white  crackle-ware  jars—" 

"  The  white  paint's  all  right,  Mrs.  Ham 
mond.  I  'm  with  you  there.  But  I  'm  going 
to  have  a  red  paper— one  of  those  heavy 
flocks.  I  always  did  like  white  paint  and  red 
paper,  and  since  we  decided  on  tapestry  for 
the  dining-room — " 

"  I  believe  you  are  right! "  cried  Mrs. 
Hammond,  admiringly.  "  My  scheme,  all 
pale  browns  and  yellows  and  creams,  might 
be  monotonous;  not  enough  contrast  in  the 
background  to  set  off  the  white  jars.  Instead 
of  paneling  the  walls  with  yellow,  we  '11  have, 
as  you  suggest,  the  palest  Indian  red — " 

'  Willoughby  means  buggy- wheel  red," 
Honor  struck  in.  "  I  think  that  in  just  one 
of  the  rooms  of  his  own  house  he  might  be 
allowed  something  he  likes." 


MR.   SMITH'S  FIANCEE       285 

"  I  am  not  aware  that  I  am  having  any 
thing  I  don't  like."  Willoughby  turned  on 
his  defender.  "  It  is  not  very  easy,  let  me  tell 
you,  to  palm  off  on  me  anybody  else's  tastes. 
Ask  Burks.  I  am  quite  as  up-to-date  as  you 
or  your  mother,  Honor,  and  the  shade  of  red 
she  mentioned  is  the  very  one  I  had  in  mind." 

Mrs.  Hammond  laughed. 

"  My  dear  Willoughby,  you  and  I  agree 
much  better  than  Honor  and  I.  I  believe  she 
is  trying  to  make  you  put  forward  her  own 
barbaric  fancy  for  gaudy  wall-papers." 

Soothed  by  this  caressing  speech,  Wil 
loughby  could  be  magnanimous  enough  to 
forgive  Honor's  championship.  He  turned 
toward  her. 

"  Would  you  like  a  maroon  paper,  Honor? 
Then  you  've  only  to  say  so.  I  '11  be  glad  to 
have  it,  though  it  is  n't  exactly — " 

"  Anything  you  decide  on  will  please  me, 
Willoughby,"  the  girl  said,  with  a  weariness 
of  voice  that  robbed  the  words  of  gracious- 
ness. 

Hurt  in  his  pride  of  ownership,  he  marched 
over  to  her  corner. 

"  I  can't  say  that  you  seem  to  take  much 
interest  in  your  own  house,  Honor." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  do;  only  I  'm  tired  out." 


286  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

"  Your  mother  's  as  fresh  as  paint.  Well, 
we  won't  be  much  longer  now.  Then  we  're 
going  round  to  Munford's  to  look  over  his 
porcelains.  He  said  he  'd  let  us  in  to-day 
— sort  of  private  view  just  for  us  three,  you 
see.  The  sale  begins  to-morrow,  and  your 
mother  says  there  '11  be  things  there  that  I 
can't  afford  to  miss." 

Not  entirely  mollified  by  her  plea  of 
fatigue,  he  left  Honor  alone  in  her  window,  to 
combat  Mrs.  Hammond  on  the  choice  of  por 
tieres.  The  girl  was  tired,  bored,  sulky.  Ex 
istence  had  become  unprofitable.  The  past 
was  a  slavery,  the  present  a  weariness,  the 
future  a  desert. 

And  then  of  a  sudden  the  wilderness  blos 
somed.  She  was  happy  in  her  beauty;  in  her 
pretty  clothes;  delighted  to  be  in  that  place; 
entertained  by  the  comedy  before  her;  glad 
that  she  was  alive.  The  world  had  become 
illuminated  by  Bim's  smile. 

The  footman  announcing,  "  Mr.  Ford- 
ham,"  Maurice  stood  a  moment  on  the  thresh 
old,  waiting  for  his  host  to  turn  to  him, 
without  either  perceiving  Honor  or  recogniz 
ing  her  mother. 

"  Mr.  Smith,  I  am  afraid  I  interrupt  you," 
he"1  said  presently. 


MR.   SMITH'S  FIANCEE      287 

"  I  did  tell  you  four  forty-five,  did  n't  I? 
That 's  a  fact,"  Willoughby  answered,  coming 
hospitably  forward.  "  You  see,  I  thought 
I  'd  be  free  by  that  time,  but  we  Ve  been  ever 
since  lunch  going  over  this  house.  Takes  time 
when  you  're  particular  about  having  every 
little  detail  O.  K.  Mr.  Fordham,  let  me  make 
you  acquainted  with  Mrs.  Hammond,  my 
future  mother-in-law." 

Honor  instantly  wished  that  she  had  told 
her  mother  of  seeing  Bim,  wondering  what 
self -consciousness  had  tied  her  tongue.  Now 
she  must  either  explain  at  an  awkward  mo 
ment,  or  hypocritically  go  through  with  an 
introduction. 

"  I  wish  I  dared  think  that  Mrs.  Hammond 
remembered  me,"  Maurice  was  saying,  with 
his  most  winning  grace.  "  A  dozen  years  ago, 
a  gawky  boy  who  was  always  infesting  your 
premises  and  staying  to  supper?  After  we 
had  lost  it,  you  bought  the  house  that  used  to 
be  ours.  Now  I  'm  trying  to  persuade  your 
husband  and  Mr.  Smith  to  let  me  buy  it  back 
— instead  of  putting  up  a  skyscraper  on  the 
lot." 

Mrs.  Hammond  did  remember  Morris 
Fordham,  and  so  cordially  that  she  called 
Honor  from  her  corner  to  remember  him,  too. 


288  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

The  girl  came,  with  her  most  stonily  indiffer 
ent  air. 

"  Yes,  I  remember  Mr.  Fordham,"  she 
said,  scarcely  looking  in  his  direction  as  she 
gave  him  her  hand.  "  I  saw  him  when  he  came 
the  other  day  to  look  at  the  house." 

"  Morris  came  to  the  house,  Honor?  Why 
in  the  world  did  n't  you  tell  me? " 

"  I  don't  know,"  Honor  answered  truth 
fully,  the  colorless  tone  of  the  few  cold  words 
giving  to  perfection  the  impression  that  Mr. 
Fordham's  existence  was  too  unimportant  to 
be  remembered  out  of  his  presence.  It  was  a 
type  of  what  people  called  "  that  Hammond 
girl's  insolence."  Willoughby  admired  it ;  he 
thought  it  high-bred. 

While  Mrs.  Hammond  made  up  for  her 
daughter's  discourtesy  with  profuse  expres 
sions  of  her  former  regard  for  Mr.  Fordham's 
father  and  mother,  and  her  pleasure  in  seeing 
the  son  again,  Miss  Hammond  stood  studying 
the  pattern  of  the  carved  mantel;  but  no 
sooner  had  Mr.  Smith  taken  his  visitor  out  of 
the  room  for  a  moment's  business  discussion, 
than  the  girl  wheeled  around  abruptly. 

"  Mother,  I  can't  go  to  Munford's.  I  for 
got  an  engagement  for  tea  at  Margery  Fan- 
ning's.  I  shall  be  late  as  it  is." 


MR.  SMITH'S  FIANCEE        289 

"  Dear,  you  can't  walk  alone  at  this  hour. 
Willoughby '  s  brougham — ' ' 

"  No.  I  won't  use  his  brougham.  I  want 
the  air.  I  am  going  to  walk."  Sweeping  by 
her  mother,  she  dashed  down  the  stairs  and  out 
into  the  dark  street. 

Under  the  forced  coldness  of  her  bearing, 
for  the  last  few  minutes  her  whole  being  had 
been  in  turmoil, — ever  since  her  flashing  re 
alization  that  to  her,  Willoughby  Smith's 
fiancee,  the  appearance  of  Morris  Fordham 
was  the  one  interesting  moment  of  the  day. 
Since  that  discovery,  she  had  scarcely  known 
what  she  did  or  said.  All  her  powers  were 
concentrated  on  the  act  of  speaking  clearly, 
when  merely  to  draw  breath  seemed  to  stifle 
her. 

Blindly  she  hurried  on,  as  if  running  away 
from  a  bodily  peril.  It  was  cold,  and  the 
upper  reaches  of  Fifth  Avenue  were  almost 
deserted.  Across  the  way,  the  melted  snow 
had  left  the  park  a  black  blot  bounded  by 
the  twinkling  street-lamps.  Though  she  had 
never  in  her  life  walked  alone  after  dark,  she 
was  too  wrapt  in  her  own  thoughts  to  feel  any 
timidity.  Indeed,  it  was  not  until  rapid  exer 
cise,  heating  her  body,  had  somewhat  cooled 
her  mind,  that  she  noticed  foot-falls  close 

19 


290  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

behind  her.  She  slackened  her  pace  and  the 
following  footsteps  paused.  She  went  on 
again  swiftly,  and  the  footsteps  hastened. 
Safely  round  the  Fannings'  corner,  she 
turned,  rather  scared  under  a  haughty  bear 
ing,  to  confront  Maurice. 

'You!"  she  cried,  surprise  swallowed  in 
anger  at  the  fright  he  had  given  her. 

"I  saw  you  not  far  in  front  of  me,  a  few 
blocks  up  the  Avenue,  and  I  followed  you  be 
cause  I  didn't  like  to  have  you  out  alone  after 
dark.  I  'm  very  sorry  that  I  startled  you. " 

4  You  did  not  startle  me  at  all,"  Honor  said 
grandly.  "  But  it  is  a  very  disagreeable  sen 
sation  to  be  dogged.  Why  did  n't  you  over 
take  me?" 

"  I  did  n't  feel  encouraged  to,  Miss  Ham 
mond,  after  your  reception  of  me." 

"  I  never  meant  to  be  rude  to  you,  Bim," 
Honor  lamented.  Why  her  manner  had  been 
frozen  she  could  not  explain.  She  could  only 
protest:  "  Why,  Bim,  how  could  you  think  I 
could  be  rude  to  you?  If  I  was  cross,  it  was  be 
cause  I  have  had  such  a  tiresome  afternoon. 
Somehow,  that  house  calls  out  all  the  worst  of 
me.  Indeed,  Morris,  you  only  came  in  for  the 
very  edge  of  my  temper.  I've  been  snapping 
Mr.  Smith's  head  off  ever  since  luncheon." 

"  When  I  came  in,  you  were  making  studies 


MR.  SMITH'S  FIANCEE        291 

of  the  most  offensive  way  to  express  rampant 
boredom." 

" '  That  sulky  Hammond  girl,'  your  friend 
would  have  called  me." 

"  With  justice." 

"  Oh,  Bim!  I  thought  you  were  the  one 
person  who  liked  me." 

"  That  's  why  I  don't  like  to  see  you  mis 
behave.  If  you  're  going  to  marry  Smith, 
you  might  as  well  be  decent  about  it." 

"  I  am." 

"  I  suppose  you  are  happy,  or  you  would  n't 
do  it.  But  you  certainly  are  n't  pleasant.  If 
he  's  giving  millions,  it  's  only  common  fair 
ness  that  he  should  get  something  in  exchange 
— at  least  a  smile." 

"  He  gets  my  '  fame  as  a  beauty,'  as  he  puts 
it.  That  's  what  he  is  buying  with  his  mil 
lions.  If.  he  had  wanted  amiability  he  would 
never  have  looked  twice  at  me." 

"  I  yield  to  your  superior  logic. — Honor,  I 
don't  know  how  you  stand  my  butting-in.  If 
you  had  n't  the  temper  of  an  angel,  you 
would  n't." 

She  laughed  happily. 

"  I  love  your  logic,  Bim.  But  of  course 
you  can  say  anything  you  like  to  me.  That 's 
what  chums  are  for." 

"  I  wonder  if  I  can!  "  he  exclaimed. 


292  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

"  Not  now,  of  course,  because  here  we  are 
at  Mrs.  Farming's,  and  I  am  going  in  for  tea. 
But  to-morrow,  if  you  choose." 

"  I  think  I  '11  go  in,  too.  Miss  Fanning 
said  that  this  was  the  hour  to  find  her  disen 
gaged,  as  a  rule.  Then  I  might  take  you 
home,  if  you  don't  object." 

"  But  Tolna,— who  does  n't  speak  English, 
and  had  almost  forgotten  the  Hammonds,  and 
does  n't  go  out  to  tea,— what  shall  we  do  with 
him?  What  would  Miss  Fanning  think?  " 

"  Oh,  did  n't  I  mention  it?  I  told  her  the 
other  day  that  I  was  twins.  I  had  to,  for  rea 
sons.  You  two  are  the  only  ones  that  share  my 
guilty  secret.  It  's  all  right.  May  I  ring?" 

A  swift  suspicion  crossed  Honor's  mind. 
She  hesitated,  glanced  at  a  passing  hansom, 
glanced  at  Maurice,  whose  smile  was  that  of 
an  innocent  schoolboy,  and  nodded  permis 
sion. 

As  they  were  shown  into  the  long  drawing- 
room  on  the  right  of  the  hall,  Margery,  radi 
ant  with  pleasure,  came  forward  to  welcome 
them. 

"  Oh,  this  is  better  than  good,"  she  ex 
claimed  in  French.  "Miss  Hammond  was 
so  kind  as  to  say  that  she  would  come.  But 
you,  Monsieur — " 


MR.  SMITH'S  FIANCEE        293 

"Fordham,"  laughed  Maurice;  "and  may 
it  be  English,  Miss  Fanning?  I  did  n't  hap 
pen  to  mention  my  old  friends  the  Ham 
monds,  I  think,  when  I  came  to  make  my 
courtesy  call  the  other  day?  I  did  recall  my 
self  to  Mrs.  Hammond  at  your  party,  but  I 
saw  that  she  did  n't  know  me  from  the 
postman.  When  I  found  a  chance  to  introduce 
Morris  Fordham  to  her  this  afternoon,  she 
was  so  polite  as  to  remember  him  and  forget 
his  early  misdemeanors.  So,  as  I  met  Miss 
Hammond  just  now,  almost  on  your  doorstep, 
I  ventured  to  ask  her  to  chaperon  me.  It  's 
the  first  time  I  've  ever  been  out  to  tea,  though 
you  might  n't  think  it  at  my  age." 

"  Then  it  must  n't  be  the  last,"  Margery 
smiled.  "  We  are  going  into  the  little  draw 
ing-room,  please,  where  the  kettle  boils." 

Honor  was  reassured.  Evidently  there  had 
been  no  plot  to  bring  her  there  with  Morry. 
Margery's  gaiety,  Bim's  presence,  the  charm 
ing  room,  the  light- winged  talk — under  these 
bright  influences  she  glowed  and  softened  like 
any  other  girl. 

As  Margery  was  pouring  his  second  cup 
for  Maurice,  a  card  was  brought  to  her. 

"  The  library,  Higgins,"  she  directed,  as  she 
rose.  "  I  am  so  sorry,  Miss  Hammond,  bui 


294  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

it  is  an  appointment.  Please  wait,  won't  you, 
till  I  come  back?  Then  I  shall  have  an  excuse 
to  say  that  I  am  particularly  engaged.  Your 
cup,  Mr.  Fordham." 

With  the  cup,  she  held  out  to  him,  as  if 
inadvertently,  the  visitor's  card,  which  bore 
the  name  of  Mr.  Denys  Alden. 

Maurice  almost  whistled. 

"  Oh,  may  I  ask  one  question  before  you  go, 
Miss  Fanning?  If  you  had  been  your  own 
grandmother,  say  in  the  'fifties, — good  old 
Dred  Scott  days, — would  you  have  given  up 
any  poor  fugitive  from  service  or  labor  to  his 
infuriated  owner? " 

"  Never,"  laughed  Margery.  "  The  trem 
bling  refugee  would  have  been  safe  under  my 
roof." 

Across  the  hall  the  library  door  closed 
behind  her. 

Honor  looked  puzzled. 

"  What  an  extraordinary  thing  to  say, 
Morry!  "  She  rebuked  his  manners  with  the 
air  of  one  whom  long  affection  justified. 
"  Why  should  you  care?  You  could  n't  have 
known  old  Mrs.  Burnham?" 

"  No.  That  is  why  I  had  to  ask.  At  the 
moment  I  was  deeply  interested  in  the  work- 


MR.  SMITH'S  FIANCEE        295 

ings  of  heredity.  Never  inind,  Honor,  I  am 
still  more  deeply  interested  in  you." 

"  Oh,  that  reminds  me.  What  was  it  you 
wished  to  tell  me,  Bim?  " 

He  had  risen  and  was  standing  by  the  fire, 
looking  down  at  her. 

"  I  thought  you  would  like  to  know,  Honor. 
Smith  has  agreed  to  waive  his  claim  alto 
gether,  and  let  me  bid  for  the  house.  It  was 
handsome  of  him.  He  's  a  pleasant  fellow  to 
do  business  with, — square  and  obliging." 

"  Oh,  then  I  know  that  father  won't  stand 
in  your  way.  He  said  that  you  had  the  first 
claim,  when  Willoughby  spoke  to  him  about 
it.  I  'm  so  glad  that  you  can  get  it.  Will 
you  live  there,  Bim,  during  opera  seasons? 
Shall  you  sing  here  next  year?  " 

"  No,  nor  ever  again,"  he  answered,  his 
heart  jumping  as  her  face  fell.  "  I  shall  live 
in  it  all  the  year  round,  if  your  father  will 
consent  to  sell  it.  I  am  going  to  leave  the 
stage  and  go  into  business." 

"Bim!    Why?" 

"  I  don't  like  my  job." 

She  offered  no  comment  till  he  demanded 
one.  "  Well,  Honor?  " 

"  Oh,  but  what  a  pity  to  give  up  your 


296  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

career,  your  fame,  for  a  commonplace  com 
mercial  life! " 

"Do  you  think  so?" 

"  Won't  every  one  think  so?  " 

He  went  on,  hardly  so  much  answering  her 
as  thinking  aloud. 

"  It  seems  strange  to  me  that  more  people 
don't  see  it  as  I  do.  Denys,  now.  His  mind 
does  n't  so  much  reason  about  things  as  illumi 
nate  them.  He  's  really  inspired  at  times. 
It  's  startling.  And  yet  this  public  life,  that 
to  me  is  so  tawdry,  so  empty,  so  childish — 
why,  it  satisfies  his  aspirations,  that  are  ten 
times  higher  than  mine.  Queer  go,  is  n't  it?  " 

"  Morry,  when  we  recited  Schiller  at  the 
convent,  I  remember  learning,  '  To  the  artist 
is  entrusted  the  dignity  of  man.'  I  did  n't 
know  what  it  meant  then,  but  I  suppose  that 
is  what  Mr.  Alden  feels." 

"No  doubt,  but  it  takes  a  great  artist  to 
keep  'his  head  on  the  stage,  Honor.  Of 
course,  in  all  careers  where  celebrity  is  the 
prize,  swelled  head  is  the  penalty.  But  paint 
ing  and  writing  and  composing  you  can  do 
by  yourself  in  a  corner,  and  there  's  a  good 
chance  that,  at  least  while  you  're  working, 
you  will  think  more  of  the  work  itself  than  of 
the  kudos  it  's  going  to  bring  you.  Actors 


MR.  SMITH'S  FIANCEE        297 

have  to  think  of  their  audiences  every  second 
of  their  professional  life.  It  would  be  won 
derful  if  they  did  n't  do  it  every  second  of 
their  private  life,  too.  No  other  class  hangs 
so  on  newspaper  praise;  no  class  is  so  self- 
conscious,  so  uneasy,  so  little  happy." 

'  That  is  n't  the  popular  idea  of  the  life  of 
a  public  darling.  I  should  say  that  no  class 
was  so  envied." 

"  Oh,  they  have  their  great  moments— even 
I  admit  that.  But  I  think  it  the  most  pathetic 
life  in  the  world.  Not  alone  the  failures, 
who  break  your  heart,  but  the  successes. 
They  are  eaten  up  with  jealousy;  with  dread 
of  slights  from  managers,  or  critics,  or  public ; 
with  fear  of  that  somebody  who,  next  week  or 
next  year,  will  send  them  to  sit  with  the  '  has- 
beens.'  They're  just  weathercocks  turned 
by  the  breath  of  the  public.  If  the  breath 
stops,  they  stop.  I  don't  know  whether 
you  would  say — Denys  would — that  the 
great  moments  are  worth  the  price.  Not  to 


me." 


"  Don't  you  think  that  an  actor  could  face 
the  public  and  the  newspapers,  and  remain 
unspoiled? " 

"  Yes,  if  he  were  a  great  artist  and  a  great 


man." 


298  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

She  tried  to  shake  off  the  seriousness  with 
which  she  had  put  the  question. 

"But  you  are  fleeing  from  temptation?" 
she  smiled. 

"  No,  I  'm  fleeing  from  absence  of  tempta 
tion.  I  never  was  even  enough  of  an  artist 
to  incur  an  artist's  dangers.  I  could  stay  on 
the  stage  for  fifty  years  and  never  get  the  big 
head,  because  all  the  fuss  that  the  others  care 
so  much  for  seems  to  me  beneath  contempt." 

"You  don't  call  that  attitude  the  big 
head?  " 

He  laughed.  "  Oh,  because  I  said  that 
only  a  great  man  could  escape  from  the  life 
unspoiled?  But  if  a  man  receives  praise  tre 
mendously  above  his  deserts,  he  must  conclude 
either  that  he  is  a  paragon  or  that  the  public 


is  an  ass." 


Following  her  own  thoughts,  she  asked, 
after  a  pause : 

'  Who  do  you  think  is  happy? " 

Her  tone  seemed  to  expect  the  answer,  "  No 
one,"  but  he  said  promptly: 

"  Anybody  who  has  got  an  aim  that  he 
believes  to  be  just.  It  does  n't  much  matter 
whether  it  is  trying  to  save  the  world  or  to 
buy  shoes  for  your  children." 

'  That  sounds  simple." 

"  You  must  n't  misunderstand  me,  Honor. 


MR.  SMITH'S  FIANCEE        299 

I  'm  not  posing  as  a  model  of  the  manly  vir 
tues.  I  have  n't  been  unhappy  on  the  stage, 
though  the  life  exasperates  me.  I  had  my 
aim.  I  wanted  to  pay  Denys.  He  supported 
me,  and  educated  me,  and  smothered  me  in 
benefits,  from  the  time  I  was  fourteen.  If  he 
had  n't,  I  must  have  gone  to  work  sweeping 
out  an  office.  It  might  have  been  just  as  well 
for  me  if  I  had  begun  with  an  honest  broom, 
but  the  dear  fellow  thought  that  he  was  saving 
me  from  perdition.  He  could  n't  have  done 
more  for  his  own  brother.  I  was  bound  to 
give  him  not  only  his  money  back,— that  was 
the  least  part  of  it, — but  a  run  for  his  money. 
He  has  had  five  years  of  fun  as  a  star's  mana 
ger,  which  was  just  what  he  liked.  Now  I 
think  that  I  have  earned  the  right  to  do  some 
thing  I  like." 

"  How  odd  that  you  never  have  felt  any  of 
the  fascination  of  the  footlights!" 

"  Oh,  I  won't  put  on  airs.  I  confess  that  I 
liked  making  a  stir — the  bouquets  and  the 
head-lines.  It  was  all  right  for  its  little  day. 
So  was  rolling  a  hoop.  But  I  'd  as  lief  trun 
dle  a  hoop,  to-day,  as  spend  my  life  on  the 
stage." 

"  I  have  heard  it  said  that  actors  are  always 
children." 

"  They  are  not  children,  for  children  grow 


300  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

up  to  be  men  and  women.  Stage  folks  are  al 
ways  copying  human  beings,  pretending  to 
be  human  beings.  All  that  human  beings 
are,  without  knowing  it,  actors  know  that  they 
are,  without  being  it.  They  have  acquired 
every  attribute  of  men  and  women,  except  be 
ing  men  and  women.  Honor,  they  're  the 
Missing  Link." 

She  was  heeding  her  own  thoughts  more 
than  his  words. 

"  Oh,  it  's  easy  for  you  to  give  up  your  ca 
reer.  You  are  a  man." 

"Easy?  Defying  Denys?"  He  laughed. 
"I  'd  rather  face  the  wrath  of  kings,  the 
fagot,  and  the  sword." 

"  No,  I  don't  suppose  that  it  is  easy  for  you, 
either,"  she  reflected.  "It  is  a  good  deal  to 
give  up,  even  if  you  know  that  it  is  n't  the  best 
in  life — the  applause  and  the  head-lines,  the 
being  Somebody.  You  may  be  perfectly  sure 
that  something  else  is  better,  and  yet  it  takes 
courage  to  let  go  what  one  has  got.  And  I 
think  it  takes  more  courage  to  get  out  of  a  sit 
uation  that  all  the  world  is  persuaded  you 
ought  to  be  in.  It  is  awfully  hard  to  go 
against  everybody." 

For  a  moment  she  sat  thinking.  Maurice, 
admiring  the  ripples  of  her  hair,  the  beauty  of 


MR.  SMITH'S  FIANCEE        301 

her  pose,  felt  no  desire  to  interrupt  her  pre 
occupation.  Presently  she  broke  out  sharply: 

"  I  am  one  of  your  imitation  persons.  I  'm 
not  real.  I  never  do  anything  because  I  think 
it  is  worth  while.  Everything  I  do  and  am 
is  according  to  somebody's  else  wishes  or 
views  or  standards.  There"  is  no  real  me." 

"  But  there  is." 

"Yes,  that  skulks  and  sulks!" 

Maurice  laughed  and  stepped  toward  her. 
As  he  moved  she  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  clock 
behind  him. 

"  Morry  Fordham,"  she  cried,  "  it  is  after 
six,  and  I  dine  out  at  seven.  I  can't  wait  for 
Miss  Fanning.  Will  you  ring  and  ask  the 
butler  to  call  a  hansom,  this  minute?  I  will 
leave  a  message  for  her.  Or  you  can  stay  and 
explain." 

"  Stay  here,  without  you  to  protect  me? 
Not  I !  When  we  go  out,  will  you  kindly  keep 
on  my  right  hand,  so  that  if  the  library  door 
should  suddenly  open —  Honor,  I  wish  we 
had  fern-seed  in  our  shoes  to  walk  invisible. 
Now,  then,  we  '11  take  a  long  breath  and  start. 
Not  a  whisper,  mind  you,  not  a  foot-fall,  till 
Higgins  shuts  the  door  on  us." 

As  he  put  her  in  tfie  waiting  han 
som,  Maurice  glanced  back  at  the  library 


302  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

window,  where  a  man's  shadow  fell  on 
the  blind. 

"Do  you  happen  to  remember,"  he  asked 
her,  "our  being  taken,  as  youngsters,  to  see 
'  Box  and  Cox.'  Exit  Box,  enter  Cox ?  It 
was  a  rattling  good  play.  I  can  laugh  now 
at  the  joke  of  it."- 

"Morry  Fordham,"  she  remonstrated, 
"  you  are  just  as  feather-brained,  to-night,  as 
you  were  when  you  were  fourteen.  What 
made  you  think  of  '  Box  and  Cox '  now? " 

14  What,  indeed?"  he  answered,  adding  un 
der  his  breath:  "Devilish  close  shave,  that! 
Ta-ta,  Denny,  my  boy!" 


CHAPTER  XVI 

A  CONTEST 

IN  the  Farmings'  library  a  single  lamp 
burned  under  a  pale-green  shade.  The 
dim  twilight  seemed  portentous.  There 
might  have  been  a  death  in  the  house,  thought 
Denys.  When  Margery  came  in,  with  his 
card  crumpled  in  her  hand,  her  dress  struck 
him  as  darker  and  severer  than  her  wont, 
while  her  face  looked  pallid  in  the  gloom. 
Near  the  door,  silent,  she  stood  waiting  for 
him  to  address  her. 

Though  his  resolve  had  brought  him  im 
mense  relief,  yet  the  moment  of  confession 
was  none  the  less  awful.  His  heart  beat  so 
that  he  could  not  speak.  At  last  she  said  in  a 
tremulous  voice: 

*  You  have  come  to  explain  to  me." 
'  Yes,"  he  answered  heavily.     "  Yes." 
She  advanced  a  little,  clenching  her  slender 
hands. 

303 


304  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

"It  is  something  terrible,"  she  breathed; 
"something  overwhelming ! " 

Tense,  expectant,  she  seemed  to  fall  upon 
the  seat  of  a  comfortless  Italian  chair. 

"  It  is  something  you  could  n't  guess,  some 
thing  I  don't  know  how  to  tell  you."  Denys 
fought  for  an  instant's  respite. 

"  I  have  guessed  that  it  is  tragedy,"  the  girl 
said,  still  in  the  same  restrained  tones. 

If  it  had  been  tragedy,  he  felt  that  he  could 
have  borne  it  better.  It  was  the  pettiness  of 
the  complication  that  overmastered  him. 

"Yes,  if  deceit  is  tragic,  and  the  betrayal 
of  friendship,"  he  answered  at  last.  "Mar 
gery,  there  is  no  Maurus  Tolna." 

She  sprang  to  her  feet. 

"He  is  dead?" 

"  No ;  the  singer,  the  man  you  know,  lives 
and  thrives.  But  he  is  not  an  Hungarian. 
He  is  American.  His  real  name  is  Morris 
Fordham." 

She  stared  at  him. 

"  But  I  don't  understand,"  she  stammered. 
"You  have  told  me  his  story— Hungary— 
Tolna  Castle — his  patriotism — his  hermit 
life?" 

"AD  invention." 

She  sank  back  into  her  chair,  still  staring  at 
him. 


A  CONTEST  305 

Now  that  he  was  confessing  what  he  had 
felt  that  he  would  rather  die  than  reveal,  he 
chose  the  bluntest  words,  with  a  sort  of  plea 
sure  in  his  own  anguish  as  he  saw  himself  sink 
lower  and  lower  in  her  contempt.  Baldly  he 
told  her  of  his  discovery  of  Maurice,  of  his 
patient  training,  of  the  boy's  slangy  common- 
placeness,  of  his  own  device  to  flood  this  stolid 
dullness  with  the  limelight  of  romance. 

"  Just  a  fraud  on  the  public  to  get  money, 
Margery." 

Indignation  lifted  her  to  her  feet. 

"  And  what  of  me — when  you  spent  hours, 
days,  glorifying  him  to  me?" 

He  groaned  aloud. 

"  God  forgive  me!  I  never  thought  that  it 
could  touch  you." 

Her  quiet  sentence  stung:  "  No,  you  never 
thought." 

He  lowered  his  face  in  his  hands. 

Presently  she  spoke  again,  with  a  distinct 
bitterness. 

"  Some  days  ago,  you  gave  me  to  under 
stand  that  this  spotless  knight,  this  honest 
gentleman,  had  done  me  the  honor  to  seek  my 
hand,  and  would  wait  upon  us  at  once  to  plead 
his  cause.  Was  that  an  essential  part  of  your 
fraud  to  get  money? " 

It  did  not  occur  to  him  that  this  was  not  the 


306  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

plaint  of  a  broken  heart.  He  raised  a  hag 
gard  face. 

"  There,  at  least,  I  was  sincere,  Miss  Fan 
ning.  I  was  sure  that  he  loved  you." 

Her  tone  was  even  more  contemptuous. 

"  Till  you  took  the  decent  trouble  to  inquire, 
and  found  that  the  cheater  was  cheated." 

"I  never  doubted—"  he  stammered. 

"  Then  you  did  ask  him?  You  did  report 
that  I  adored  him?"  she  cried  sharply,  as  if 
she  were  but  now  assured.  "  You  did  thrust 
me  upon  him,  till  to  escape  me  he  has  fled. 
Oh,  I  can  guess  it  all! " 

He  made  no  attempt  to  defend  himself. 
After  a  moment,  marshaling  her  grievances, 
she  swept  on: 

"  You  forced  me  on  him.  And  you  called 
yourself  my  friend! " 

He  looked  up  now. 

"It, was  indefensible,  Miss  Fanning.  My 
only  excuse  is  that  I  love  you." 

From  her  "You!"  he  winced  as  from  a 
whip ;  but,  offender  as  he  acknowledged  him 
self,  her  tone  stung  him  out  of  his  meek  sub 
mission  to  her  taunts. 

"Yes,  I.  I  loved  you  from  the  first  mo 
ment  I  saw  you,  last  summer.  I  almost  told 


A  CONTEST  307 

you  a  dozen  times,  there  in  the  pines,  but  I 
was  afraid  of  that  money  of  yours.  I  am  not 
poor,  but  you  are  a  great  heiress.  I  wanted 
to  show  you  first  that  in  myself  I  was  good 
for  something.  You  loved  music.  I  had 
made  a  musician.  For  I  did  make  the  singer 
out  of  Maurice,  just  as  truly  as  Pan  made  his 
pipe  out  of  a  reed.  I  thought  that  when  you 
heard  him  sing  you  would  give  me  some  poor 
credit.  Vain  fool  that  I  was,  I  never  foresaw 
that  when  you  knew  him  you  must  love  him! " 

She  was  silent  now,  her  play-acting  abashed 
before  his  reality.  In  a  moment  he  went  on : 

"When  I  found  that  you  were  under  the 
spell,  I  knew  that  I  had  wrought  it — beguiled 
you  to  see  in  him  all  that  I  had  said  he  was. 
God  knows  that  when  I  made  up  the  story  I 
meant  no  harm.  I  told  it  to  you,  as  I  had 
been  telling  it  to  the  public,  because  I  thought 
it  would  amuse  you.  The  public  likes  to  read 
picturesque  tales  about  celebrities,  and  never 
asks  whether  they  are  true.  Tolna  is  just  a 
celebrity  to  them.  I,  gross  egotist  that  I  was, 
forgot  that  he  could  be  more  to  you.  He  was 
to  reflect  glory  on  me.  I  never  considered  the 
glory  piled  on  his  own  head.  The  night  that 
you  asked  to  meet  him,  it  struck  me  for  the 


308  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

first  time  that  you  looked  on  him  not  as  an  ab 
straction,  but  as  a  man.  That  night  I  saw 
the  beginning  of  the  end." 

She  still  sat  silent,  moved  by  these  revela 
tions.  He  repeated: 

"  I  saw  what  I  had  done,  exalting  him  to 
you,  kindling  your  imagination.  In  trying 
— humbly  enough,  heaven  knows — to  make 
you  think  more  kindly  of  me,  I  had  made  you 
adore  him.  Margery,  what  could  I  do  but 
what  I  did  do?  How  could  I  tell  you,  then, 
that  Tolna  was  a  myth?  How  could  I  belittle 
my  friend  to  help  my  own  cause?  Through 
my  duplicity,  you  had  come  to  care  for  him. 
After  I  knew  that,  how  could  I  ever  confess 
the  trick?  In  the  beginning  I  honestly  meant 
— after  you  should  see  him  and  be  completely 
taken  in  by  him — to  tell  you  the  whole  thing, 
as  a  joke.  Then  I  found  that—  My  God! 
it  has  been  a  costly  joke  to  me." 

She  still  sat  silent,  her  face  white  and 
drawn,  he  fancied,  against  the  high,  carved 
back  of  her  chair.  He  went  on : 

"  If  I  had  told  you,  then,  you  would  have 
loathed  me  for  a  trickster.  You  would  have 
accused  me  of  juggling  with  a  woman's  heart 
for  wanton  fun.  Though  I  never  meant  it, 
that  was  what  I  had  accomplished— played  a 


A  CONTEST  309 

little  trick  for  stupid  fun,  and  ruined  your  life 
with  it.  Well,  I  vowed  that  your  life  should 
not  be  ruined.  If  I  had  offered  you  a  false 
Tolna  in  jest,  you  should  have  a  real  one  in 
earnest." 

Her  look  was  pure  wonder. 

"You  meant  to  keep  up  the  pretense  to 
me?" 

"  I  was  sure  that  he  loved  you.  I  think  no 
body  can  look  at  you  and  not  love  you.  I 
know  I  can't.  I  meant  him  to  go  on— as 
Tolna.  What  harm,  when  he  really  is  the 
gentleman  Tolna  is  believed  to  be?  " 

Denys's  eloquence  suddenly  ceased.  Mar 
gery  kindly  supplied  the  words  he  could  not 
speak. 

"  But  unfortunately  he  was  the  one  invul 
nerable  who  could  look  at  me  and  not  love? 
When  you  so  generously  offered  me  to  him, 
he  declined  me?" 

Denys's  dark  cheek  flushed. 

"Miss  Fanning,  I  did  wrong.  Nothing 
that  you  can  say  can  make  me  more  ashamed 
than  I  am ;  more  sorry,  more  miserable.  But 
I  believed  your  happiness  at  stake.  I— I— 
spoke  to  him  too  strongly,  and  he  left  my 
house." 

Before  the  evidence  of  his  love  and  suffer- 


310  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

ing,  Margery  had  already  condoned  his  of 
fense.  Now,  as  he  recalled  his  appeal  to 
Maurice,  his  cheapening  of  her,  her  vanity 
flamed  up  again. 

"Even  then,"  Denys  pursued,  his  eyes  on 
the  rug — "  even  then  I  could  n't  give  it  up.  I 
am  a  little  crazy,  I  think.  I  am  always  so  sure 
that  I  can  get  my  way,  because  I  am  always  so 
convinced  that  it  is  the  one  right  way.  For 
thirteen  years  Maurice  has  been  my  docile 
ward  who  did  as  he  was  bid.  I  knew  that  he 
would  come  back  and  give  in  to  me.  I  could 
not  admit  to  you  that  all  was  wrong.  I 
could  n't  break  your  heart.  In  spite  of  my 
self,  I  was  driven  to  the  pettiest  shifts  and 
subterfuges." 

"Then  even  now  you  don't  know  where  he  is 
hiding — from  me?  Even  now  you  fear  that  he 
is  giving  up  his  career — to  escape  me?  And 
yet,  even  now  you  would  persuade  him  to  take 
pity  on  me  if  you  could !  Oh,  it  is  monstrous !" 

"Even  to-day,  Miss  Fanning,  when  that 
vulgar  newspaper  has  informed  all  the  world 
that  Maurice  has  disappeared — even  on  my 
way  here,  I  wanted  to  tell  you  that  he  had 
wandered  away  and  died  in  a  fit  of  insanity 
brought  on  by  overwork.  I  thought  it  would 
hurt  you  less  to  hear  that  than  to  hear  what 
had  really  happened." 


A  CONTEST  311 

"  I  don't  quite  see  why,  when  your  reservoir 
of  fiction  is  still  so  full,  you  prefer  to  dole  out  a 
scanty  draught  of  truth." 

He  smiled.  "  Not  for  love  of  the  article,  I 
assure  you.  It  was  because  I  foresaw  that 
Maurice  might  report  himself,  well  and  in  his 
right  mind." 

"  Even  your — imagination  cannot  cover  all 
contingencies." 

He  was  surprised  at  the  constant  acerbity  of 
her  tone.  Humbly  as  he  admitted  that  he  de 
served  them,  he  felt  it  beneath  her  dignity  to 
deal  these  thrusts  at  him,  defenseless.  A  great 
grief,  to  his  thinking,  demanded  a  noble  ex 
pression.  Passion  of  despair  he  had  expected. 
Passion  of  anger  and  scorn  he  could  under 
stand.  Her  well-planted  petty  darts  seemed 
quite  incongruous  with  the  occasion. 

Then  he  reviled  himself  for  dragging  into 
this  reality  his  stage  notions  of  technique. 
Because  Margery  did  not  tear  a  passion  to 
tatters,  was  he  to  assume  that  she  did  not  feel? 
Nay,  rather,  if  her  despair  found  vent  in  sharp 
retorts,  then  thus  in  real  life  must  real  despair 
be  expressed.  Pity  for  her  wrung  him  to  the 
last  degree  of  anguish. 

"  No  words  that  you  could  say  can  brand  me 
as  my  own  condemnation  brands  me.  When 
you  think  of  the  contemptible  lies  and  evasions 


312  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

with  which  I  tried  to  shield  you,  you  must 
know  how  I  felt  the  shame  of  the  truth,  how  I 
dreaded  to  tell  it  to  you.  Margery,  would  to 
God  I  had  died  before  I  ever  began  to  deceive 
you  concerning  Maurice! " 

He  spoke  theatrically, — Denys  could  not  do 
otherwise, — yet  she  knew  that  his  emotion  was 
none  the  less  true  for  the  grandiloquence  of  his 
words.  She  could  see  in  his  face  the  haggard 
misery  that  she  had  meant  him  to  imagine  in 
her  own.  She  felt  that  the  jest  had  gone  far 
enough.  He  had  had  his  punishment,  and 
had  taken  it  gallantly.  And  now  she  would 
be  gracious.  She  moved  to  the  chimney  and 
flashed  on  the  lights.  Amazed,  he  beheld  her 
brilliant  prettiness  unworn  and  smiling. 

"  Don't  you  think,  Mr.  Alden,"  she  teased 
softly  and  merrily,  without  a  hint  of  malice, 
"  that  you  take  to  yourself  rather  too  much 
credit  when  you  assume  that  your  spells 
worked  my  undoing?  If  I  were  the  suscep 
tible  idiot  you  seem  determined  to  believe  me, 
the  prosaic  Fordham  might  have  proved  as 
dangerous  to  my  peace  of  mind  as  the  roman 
tic  Tolna.  So  it  is  well  that  I  never  cared  a 
straw  for  either  of  them,  though  you  chose  to 
assume  that  concealment  fed  on  my  damask 
cheek." 


A  CONTEST  313 

In  a  daze  he  heard  her  through,  while  she 
laughed  into  his  bewildered  face. 
4  You — you  mean  this?  " 

"Must  I  call  a  witness?  There  might  be 
some  friend  in  the  drawing-room  to  testify  to 
my  common  sense.  Of  course  I  value  Mon 
sieur  Tolna  as  my  friend  and  yours,  but  never 
for  one  moment  have  I  been  in  love  either  with 
your  counterfeit  presentment— very  counter 
feit — of  Tolna,  or  with  what  I  have  seen  of 
Mr.  Fordham— in  this  house." 

He  could  not  doubt  the  genuineness  of  her 
mirth,  the  ease  of  her  voice.  Yet  he  still 
seemed  unable  to  comprehend  her  words. 

"  You  let  me  think  so!"  he  cried.  "  You 
let  me  think  so!  " 

She  winced  a  little.  But  she  would  not  con 
fess  to  Denys,  as  she  had  confessed  to  Mau 
rice,  the  reason  of  her  pretense. 

"  You  are  so  infallible! "  she  laughed 
lightly.  "  Who  was  I  to  contradict  you?  " 

He  was  staring  straight  before  him. 

"  And  I  have  been  in  hell!  " 

The  conversation  did  not  move  as  she  had 
planned  it.  In  her  acting  version  of  this  lit 
tle  comedy,  as  soon  as  she  had  spoken  the  mo 
mentous  words,  "  I  never  cared  a  straw  for 
Tolna,"  he  was  to  spring  up  in  a  transport  of 


314  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

joy,  to  cry,  "  Margery!  At  last  I  am  free  to 
speak  for  myself,"  and  to  hold  out  imploring 
arms.  Instead,  he  sat  in  a  stupor,  and  said 
things  that  sounded  as  vulgar  as  swearing. 

After  a  moment's  strained  silence  Denys 
rose  and,  still  with  a  stupefied  air,  made  his 
way  toward  the  door.  She  watched  him,  too 
surprised  to  protest. 

At  the  threshold  it  seemed  to  occur  to  him 
that  a  leave-taking  was  in  order.  His  face,  as 
he  turned  it  toward  her,  looked  sharper,  more 
drawn  than  ever.  She  could  see  that  only  by 
a  great  effort  did  he  keep  his  voice  steady. 

"  Miss  Fanning,  I  thank  you  for  your  dis 
closure.  You  have  relieved  me  of  a  great 
weight.  Now  I  can  go  home  to  my  salutary 
discipline;  to  the  remembrance  that  the  fool 
is  wiser  in  his  own  conceit  than  seven  men  that 
can  render  a  reason." 

Margery  felt  as  if  she  were  driving  behind 
runaway  horses,  the  situation  was  so  entirely 
beyond  her  control. 

"  But  you  were  n't  a  fool — "  she  protested. 

With  a  scornful  gesture,  he  swept  the  words 
away. 

"  A  very  utter  fool,  mademoiselle.  Since 
you — allowed  me  to  mistake  your  feelings, 
there  are  few  tortures  I  have  not  been  absurd 


A  CONTEST  315 

enough  to  suffer.  I  was — as  of  course  you 
knew  when  you  devised  this  merry  jest — 
madly  in  love  with  you  myself.  I  had  to  en 
dure  not  merely  the  death  of  my  own  hopes, 
the  knowledge  that  another  was  preferred— 
and  God  knows  that  was  misery  enough.  I 
had  to  endure  the  certainty  that,  as  I  lost  you, 
I  lost  also  the  first  place  in  my  friend's  heart. 
And  not  this  alone.  I  must  see  your  happi 
ness  lived  under  my  eyes — eyes  that  must 
never  show  jealousy  or  pain,  lest  you  and  he 
be  wounded." 

"  But  when  you  found  that  he  did  not 


care—" 


'  Then,  still  trying  with  my  whole  loyal 
heart  to  serve  you,  I  quarreled  with  him,  drove 
him  from  my  house,  passed  four  days  of 
damnable  torture  in  ignorance  of  his  where 
abouts,  trying  by  every  petty  lie  and  shift  to 
keep  the  truth  from  you.  Oh,  be  content, 
Miss  Fanning!  You  have  not  only  made  me 
wretched— you  have  made  me  ridiculous.  I 
have  not  even  the  consolation  of  dignity  in  my 
abasement.  I  was  deceived  and  deceiving, 
lied  to  and  vainly  lying,  my  woes  fit  to  set  the 
gallery  in  a  roar.  Let  me  congratulate  you 
that  you  have  been  so  well  amused." 

It  was  the  first  time  in  her  life  that  any  one 


316  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

had  ever  been  seriously  displeased  with  Mar 
gery.  The  sensation  was  so  surprising  as  to 
destroy  her  self-possession.  Partially,  reluc 
tantly,  she  admitted  Denys's  point  of  view, 
perceived  that  the  rudeness  of  his  words  was  to 
be  excused  by  his  pain,  realized  that  it  is  a 
questionable  pastime  to  play  with  a  lover's 
feelings.  But  she  was  too  angry  at  being 
scolded  to  allow  these  palliations.  She  felt  it 
as  a  bitter  injustice  that  he  did  not  take  into 
consideration  how  he  had  made  her  suffer, 
too.  That  he  could  not  know  she  had  suffered 
was  a  mere  frivolous  detail. 

For  a  bare  second  she  was  tempted  to  fling 
open  the  door  and  summon  Maurice  to  defend 
her.  How  he  could  defend  her,  or  from  what, 
she  did  not  ask  herself;  but  at  least  his  jubi 
lant  presence  would  be  that  of  an  ardent 
champion.  Loyalty  to  the  fugitive  making 
this  retaliation  impossible,  however,  she  was 
driven  to  hard  words. 

"  A  reproof  for  double-dealing  from  you!  " 
she  scoffed. 

"  Don't  let  us  descend  to  recriminations," 
he  begged.  "  Good  afternoon,  Miss  Fan 
ning." 

She  could  not  let  him  go  with  this  madden 
ingly  superior  air. 


A  CONTEST  317 

"  Mr.  Alden!  "  she  cried,  taking  a  step  after 
him. 

He  turned  on  the  threshold  to  say  in  an 
easy,  conversational  tone : 

"  Do  you  know,  I  am  so  dense  that  not  till 
this  moment  have  I  perceived  the  significance 
of  your  kind  present  to  me.  The  pun  was  as 
neat,  Miss  Fanning,  as  the  gift  was  refined." 

Before  she  could  ask  the  meaning  of  his 
enigmatical  farewell — of  what  sounded  to  her 
like  a  new  accusation — he  was  gone. 

She  had  forgiven  him  what  his  friend  had 
pronounced  a  mere  hurt  to  her  vanity.  But 
she  knew  that  he  could  not  forgive  her  for  the 
cruel  wound  she  had  dealt  to  his  love  and  his 
faith.  And  she  was  so  young,  and  life  was  so 
long!  She  was  wondering  whether  she  could 
drag  herself  up-stairs,  out  of  sight,  when  she 
remembered  her  guests.  That  the  drawing- 
room  was  empty  was  the  only  welcome  dis 
covery  that  the  hour  had  brought. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

MISS  HAMMOND  FINDS  HERSELF 

THAT  member  of  the  Hammond  family 
who  knew  least  of  its  concerns  was  ap 
proaching  his  house  after  midnight,  when  the 
door  opened  to  let  out  a  hooded  female  figure. 
Quickening  his  pace  to  see  which  of  the  maids 
was  this  night-prowler,  Hammond  found  him 
self  face  to  face  with  his  own  daughter. 

For  the  moment  he  was  too  startled  for 
speech.  But  Honor  was  no  more  surprised  or 
abashed  than  if  it  had  been  one  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon  instead  of  one  in  the  morning. 

"  I  am  going  to  post  a  letter." 

She  was  brushing  past  him,  forgetting  him 
almost  before  she  finished  the  sentence.  Her 
whole  soul  was  at  the  letter-box  on  the  corner. 
Her  father  perceived  that  if  she  had  met  a 
hippogriff ,  she  would  have  walked  straight  by 
in  perfect  unconcern. 

He  felt  as  if  she  were  a  sleep-walker  whom 
he  must  not  startle. 

318 


HONOR  FINDS  HERSELF     319 

"  Run  back  indoors,  dear.  I  '11  post  the 
letter." 

She  made  a  gesture  of  impatience,  as  if  she 
hardly  heard  what  he  said,  merely  resented  the 
obstacle  in  her  path. 

"  No,  I  must  post  it  myself." 

"  Come,  then,"  he  said,  turning  in  the  di 
rection  she  faced. 

She  made  neither  assent  nor  objection,  and 
they  walked  nearly  to  Sixth  Avenue  in  silence. 
Then  she  stopped  and  looked  at  him,  as  if  for 
the  first  time  realizing  who  he  was  and  what 
he  was  doing. 

"  Father,  you  don't  ask  any  questions." 

"  I  assume  that  it  is  n't  your  habit  to  sally 
out  alone  in  the  middle  of  the  night.  If  you 
do  it  now,  it  must  seem  to  you  necessary,  so  I 
won't  scold  you  for  imprudence." 

She  showed  her  letter. 

"  I  am  breaking  my  engagement." 

"What  has  Smith  done?" 

"  He  has  given  mother  and  me  everything 
we  want.  But  I  can't  marry  him,  dear." 

By  the  electric  light  on  the  street  corner  he 
studied  her  face. 

"  Honor,  you  are  taking  a  momentous  step." 

"Yes,  father." 

"  I  want  you  to  come  back  to  the  house  with 


320  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

me  and  talk  it  over.  After  our  discussion,  if 
you  are  still  resolved  on  breaking  with  Smith, 
you  shall  post  the  letter  yourself." 

"Dad,  I  did  n't  mean  to  be  rude  when  I 
would  n't  let  you  do  it.  Of  course  I  did  n't 
suspect  you  of  a  wish  to  suppress  it.  Only,  I 
could  n't  feel  that  the  deed  was  done  unless 
I  heard  the  letter  thud  down  in  the  box." 

:<  Will  you  take  an  hour  to  think  about  it, 
Honor?" 

"Yes,  dad.  I  '11  listen  to  anything  you 
have  to  say." 

"  Thank  you,  dear." 

As  they  retraced  their  steps,  she  slipped  her 
arm  through  his,  her  hand  into  his. 

"Daddy,  I  love  you." 

"  Do  you,  sweetheart? " 
*  Yes.  You  must  think  I  am  insane,  but 
you  treat  me  just  as  if  I  were  sane  and  my 
judgment  were  to  be  respected.  You  don't 
know  how  I  want  to  post  that  letter.  A  regi 
ment  of  soldiers  would  n't  have  stopped  me, 
but  when  you  are  so  quiet  and  kind  I  have  to 
stop— for  you." 

Honor  opened  the  door  with  a  latch-key, 
and  laid  her  fingers  on  her  father's  lips  as  she 
led  him  along  the  dark  hall  and  into  the  morn 
ing-room.  He  struck  a  match  from  the  box 


HONOR  FINDS  HERSELF      321 

in  his  pocket,  while  she  quickly  shut  the  door 
after  them.  She  broke  into  a  laugh,  more 
girlish  than  her  usual  note. 

"Don't  you  feel  as  if  you  were  Guy 
Fawkes?  But  we  must  n't  wake  mother." 

She  laid  her  letter  upon  the  table,  and  he  no 
ticed  that  she  had  added  a  special-delivery 
stamp  to  insure  Willoughby's  receiving  it 
early. 

"  You  can  send  it  just  as  well  by  messenger 
in  the  morning." 

"  I  know.  But  I  wanted  to  start  it  to 
night." 

"Lest  your  courage  might  give  way, 
Honor?"  * 

She  smiled. 

"  No,  I  really  was  n't  afraid  of  that.  But 
having  decided  to  send  it,  I  could  net  sleep  till 
the  actual  deed  was  done.  Perhaps  you  don't 
see  any  difference  between  dropping  the  let 
ter  in  the  box  and  leaving  it  on  my  desk  to  be 
sent  in  the  morning?  That  is  because  you  are 
not  a  woman." 

:cWhy  are  you  breaking  with  Smith,  if  I 
may  ask?  A  week  ago  you  seemed  delighted 
to  marry  him." 

"  I  was.  Of  course  I  was  n't  in  love  with 
him.  I  knew  that  he  was  conceited  and  tire- 


322  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

some  and  silly.  But  I  thought  I  could  stand 
it,  considering  how  much  he  had  to  bestow. 
Now  I  find  that  I  can't." 

"  You  have  suffered  a  change  of  heart." 

"  Father,  we  have  been  engaged  seven  days, 
and  he  has  tried  to  please  me.  Yet  already  he 
exasperates  me  so  that  I  can  hardly  be  civil  to 
him.  Do  you  think  that  that  is  a  good  omen 
for  the  happiness  of  our  future  life? " 

"  The  little  things  that  exasperate  you  now, 
you  will  notice  less  as  you  become  accustomed 
to  them.  And  the  young  man  has  what  you 
seemed  to  desire— great  possessions." 

She  gave  a  low  laugh. 

"  I  wonder  if  I  really  do?  That  sounds  ab 
surd,  because  I  told  you,  only  the  other  day, 
that  I  did.  I  have  always  believed  that  I  did. 
I  have  been  brought  up  with  the  idea  that  I 
was  to  have  a  brilliant  future.  When  I  was 
about  twelve  years  old,  mother  began  gently 
putting  the  notion  into  my  mind  that  I  was 
quite  different  from  other  girls.  At  the  con 
vent  girls  and  teachers  took  the  same  attitude 
— for  me  marriage  was  to  be  a  career.  I  am 
not  clever,  you  know,  dad.  I  have  never 
thought  for  myself.  If  everybody  about  me 
assumed  that  my  mission  in  life  was  to  make  a 
great  marriage,  I  supposed  that  it  was.  A 


HONOR  FINDS  HERSELF     323 

quick,  original,  rebellious  girl  would  have 
thought  it  all  out  for  herself,  and  perhaps  dis 
agreed  with  them,  and  perhaps  agreed.  Any 
how,  she  would  have  known  what  she  herself 
wanted.  But  I  never  asked  myself.  I  went 
right  along  on  the  rails." 

She  rose  and  began  pacing  the  room,  as  he 
had  seen  her  do  once  before. 

"After  I  came  home,  the  life  I  led  never 
seemed  to  me  very  much  worth  while.  But 
you  and  I  are  alike,  dad, — we  have  n't  a  great 
deal  of  fight  in  us.  We  don't  stick  out  for 
our  rights.  We  give  in,  and  feel  injured." 
She  faced  him  with  laughing  defiance — 
"  Daddy,  I  've  got  my  war-paint  on." 

He  answered  gently  and  seriously: 

"Honor,  I  don't  suppose  any  father  be 
lieves  that  there  is  a  man  living  good  enough 
for  the  little  daughter  whom  he  loves.  Long 
after  her  mother  knows  that  she  is  grown  up 
and  ought  to  be  married,  her  father  thinks  that 
she  is  still  a  child,  and  the  bare  suggestion  of 
her  marriage  seems  shocking  to  him.  I  should 
like  to  keep  you  for  my  child  forever.  But  of 
course  it  is  better— it  is,  indeed,  necessary— 
for  you  to  marry.  Willoughby  Smith  is  no 
hero  of  romance,  but  I  believe  him  a  man  to 
whom  a  father  need  n't  be  ashamed  or  afraid 


324  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

to  give  his  daughter.     And  he  is,  as  your  mo 
ther  points  out,  an  American  prince." 

"  But  if  you  don't  happen  to  care  for  the 
life  of  an  American  princess,  that  is  no  ad 
vantage,  is  it?  Dad,  that  man's  one  enjoy 
ment  is  to  entertain.  In  that  respect  he  may 
very  truly  be  called  princely.  There  is  some 
thing  magnificent  in  his  tireless,  endless  hos 
pitality.  He  would  have  been  perfectly 
happy  as  a  Roman  emperor,  giving  the  whole 
populace  panem  et  circenses.  He  would  n't 
grudge  the  bread  and  he  would  sit  up  nights 
arranging  the  circuses.  The  rabble  would 
have  adored  him.  He  is  great— in  his  line. 
He  would  make  a  woman  that  shared  his  tastes 
altogether  satisfied.  But,  daddy,  I  don't." 
She  paused  only  to  breathe,  then  swept  on : 
"Dear,  everybody  assumes  that  steam- 
yachts,  and  great  mansions,  and  private  cars, 
and  horses,  and  jewels,  and  opera-boxes  are 
necessarily  desirable.  They  are  not  desirable 
if  you  hate  the  life  that  they  make  for  you. 
Willoughby  loves  crowds.  I  detest  them.  I 
am  always  afraid  of  people  whom  I  don't 
know  well,  and  it  takes  me  years  to  know  any 
body  well.  I  should  never  make  a  good  hos 
tess.  I  am  not  ready,  I  am  not  tactful,  and  I 
am  not  interested.  I  could,  perhaps,  force 


HONOR  FINDS  HERSELF     325 

myself  to  go  through  the  motions  properly 
and  politely,  but  never  gracefully,  because  I 
have  no  instinct  for  it.  When  you  point  out 
to  me  the  advantages  of  the  life  I  am  giving 
up,  you  might  as  well  be  explaining  the  pleas 
ures  of  hunting  to  somebody  who  is  afraid  of 
horses,  or  singing,  'A  Life  on  the  Ocean 
Wave '  to  a  person  who  is  seasick." 

"  I  think  you  dread  the  pains  of  entertain 
ing  more  than  you  need,  Honor.  You  always 
dread  a  new  thing." 

"It  is  not  a  new  thing.  I  've  been  enter 
tained  and  entertaining  for  five  years." 

"  Then  the  question  is  whether  the  work  to 
which  Smith  will  subject  you  is  any  more  gall 
ing  than  the  work  from  which  he  will  free  you. 
Life  is  never  a  bed  of  roses,  Honor.  It  is  at 
best  only  a  choice  of  evils,  an  endless  compro 
mise.  Smith  sets  you  free  forever  from  money 
worries,  from  manual  labor,  from  the  sordid 
daily  grind  of  ways  and  means." 

"  Is  it  sordid,  dad?  I  won't  be  silly  and  say 
that  I  don't  mind  poverty.  I  should  mind  it 
very  much.  But  I  think  the  scale  of  life  on 
which  we  live  quite  good  enough  for  anybody. 
Mother  and  I  design  and  cut  and  help  to  make 
the  greater  part  of  our  clothes ;  and  though  we 
always  sigh  and  say, '  Oh,  to  be  able  to  buy  in 


326  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

Paris ! '  really  there  is  no  time  in  the  year  I 
enjoy  so  much  as  the  quiet  weeks,  spring  and 
fall,  when  we  stay  at  home  and  sew.  The  only 
things  that  I  learned  well  at  the  convent  were 
sewing  and  cooking.  I  have  n't  a  clever  mind, 
but  I  do  possess  clever  fingers.  Don't  you 
think  that  it 's  a  waste  to  put  me  in  a  sphere  of 
life  where  I  ought  to  have  a  mind,  but  shall 
never  need  the  fingers? " 

He  laughed,  but  seemed  about  to  protest, 
when  she  went  on  again : 

"  Father,  you  are  anxious  to  save  me  from 
practical  cares,  because  practicalities  have  al 
ways  jarred  on  you  all  your  days.  You  have 
longed  to  build  heavenly  mansions  for  hea 
venly  people.  If  a  client  insists  on  a  veranda 
across  the  front  of  a  Tudor  house,  you  have  to 
give  him  one,  because  it  is  your  livelihood,  but 
you  feel  that  you  are  betraying  your  art." 

"  I  do  feel  it.  It  is  for  the  freedom  it  gives 
one  from  such  debasing  necessities  that  I  prin 
cipally  value  money." 

"Yes,  you  are  an  artist.  But  I  should 
agree  with  the  client  that  a  comfortable  place 
to  sit  in  was  far  more  important  than  his  Tu 
dor  '  elevation.' ' 

"  You  are  a  Philistine  1 " 

"  That  is  what  I  am  saying.     You  could  n't 


HONOR  FINDS  HERSELF     327 

eat  your  dinner  if  you  had  planned  every  de 
tail  of  its  journey  from  the  market  to  the  table. 
Now,  I  could." 

"  Honor,  the  situation  is  more  serious  than 
you  think." 

"Wait,  father.  Hear  me  out!  I  appre 
ciate  that  we  are  living  beyond  our  means, 
wearing  you  out,  body  and  soul.  Mother 
is  n't  extravagant  in  the  way  ?he  does  things, 
— nobody  could  manage  better, — but  she  is  ex 
travagant  in  the  things  she  does.  She  thinks, 
poor  soul!  that  she  must  give  me  my  chance. 
I  have  thought  it  all  out.  If  you  let  me  stay 
with  you,  we  shall  live  very  differently.  We 
shall  give  up  our  share  in  the  opera-box.  I 
shall  go  out  oncQ  a  week,  instead  of  seven 
nights.  At  the  very  most,  I  should  need  only 
a  third  as  many  clothes;  and  if  we  entertain 
less  and  I  have  time  to  give  to  the  house,  we 
can  send  away  two  of  the  servants.  I  should 
like  to  keep  the  brougham  for  mother,  but  it 
will  be  no  hardship  to  sell  the  victoria  and  one 
of  the  horses.  This  proposal  does  n't  come 
gracefully  from  me,  I  admit;  for  I  don't  feel 
it  a  sacrifice,  and  it  would  be  a  great  sacrifice 
for  her.  But  I  think  mother  might  as  well 
face  things  as  they  are,  and  recognize  that  she 
did  n't  marry  an  American  prince." 


328  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

"  And  that  her  daughter  won't? " 

"  Dad,  I  admitted  that  I  hate  poverty.  But 
if  I  had  to  choose  between  doing  type-writing 
in  the  hall  bedroom  of  a  boarding-house  and 
being  Mrs.  Willoughby  Smith,  I  would  take 
the  hall  bedroom  and  peace  of  mind." 

"  It  may  come  to  that,  daughter.  I  have 
been  having  a  talk  to-night  with  my  partner. 
The  firm  is  in  a  very  poor  way." 

"Why,  father!  I  thought  you  were  one  of 
the  most  famous  firms  in  New  York." 

"We  are.  But  since  John  Clive  died  we 
have  n't  made  much  money.  Richard  and  I 
are  n't  as  sharp  in  our  contracts  as  he  was. 
We  are  n't  as  clever  in  drumming  up  custom 
ers.  Perhaps,  too,  we  have  scruples  about 
Tudor  mansions  with  verandas.  Anyway, 
business  has  fallen  off.  I  could  n't  have  lived 
as  we  have  lived  since  you  came  home,  except 
that  I  made  fortunate  investments  in  my  fat 
years.  Lately,  the  market  has  taken  a  disas 
trous  turn.  You  knew  that  I  had  given  an 
option  on  the  house  to  Willoughby  Smith." 

"  You  told  me.  But  I  did  n't  guess  it  was 
necessity."  She  sat  still  a  moment. 

"  And  if  I  marry  Willoughby  Smith? " 

"Don't  misunderstand,  dear  child.  I 
should  never  borrow  a  dollar  from  my  son-in- 


HONOR  FINDS  HERSELF      329 

law.  But  if  it  were  known  that  you  were 
shortly  to  marry  a  very  rich  man,  credit  would 
be  thrust  upon  me.  Given  time  to  turn  around, 
I  could  save  the  situation.  If  the  new  owner 
does  n't  want  the  house,  we  could  still  live  here, 
modestly.  If  the  match  is  publicly  broken 
off,  we  should  have  to  leave  it  at  once. 
We  must  go  to  a  small  flat  or  to  the 
suburbs." 

"Oh,  poor  mother!" 
"  It  will  be  hard  for  you,  too,  Honor." 
The  girl  paced  with  rapid,  uneven  steps 
about  the  room. 

"  I  think  it  would  almost  kill  mother." 
Hammond  rose,  stopping  his  daughter  in 
her  march. 

"  Honor,  you  are  not  to  think  of  your  mo 
ther  or  of  me.  I  had  to  tell  you  the  prospect 
that  lies  before  you.  It  would  not  be  fair  to 
let  you  decide  in  ignorance.  I  am  only  fifty ; 
I  expect  to  work  out  of  my  debts  and  yet  be 
able  to  leave  you  and  your  mother  a  compe 
tence.  There  is  my  life  insurance,  anyhow. 
You  will  not,  at  the  worst,  be  left  to  beggary 
—nor,  at  the  best,  to  more  than  narrow  means. 
I  hope  you  may  meet  some  one  whom  you  will 
marry  for  love,  but  such  happiness  may  never 
come.  You  will  have  all  the  anxieties  and 


330  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

disabilities  of  poverty  for  a  time,  certainly, 
and  perhaps  for  all  your  life." 

"  For  myself,  I  don't  care—" 

"  Then,  my  darling,  post  your  letter,  and 
God  bless  you!" 

She  was  clinging  in  his  arms. 

"Oh,  dad,  dad!   I  can't!   Mother-" 

"  Honor,  neither  of  your  parents  will  sell 
their  daughter." 

His  face  wore  the  sternness  which  hardened 
its  delicacy  into  nobility.  Honor  had  never 
appreciated  how  handsome  he  was.  Both  her 
arms  were  round  his  neck. 

"Darling  father,  if  I  give  myself — " 

"It  is  wrong,  Honor.  The  young  life 
should  never  be  sacrificed  to  the  old.  We  have 
had  our  life,  to  shape  it  as  we  saw  fit.  Now 
you  shall  have  yours,  to  make  of  it  what  you 
can.  I  want  you  to  understand  well  what  you 
are  doing.  But  if,  at  this  crisis,  with  dark 
days  before  you,  you  can  give  up  a  mercenary 
marriage,  I  am  very  glad  and  proud." 

She  strove  to  speak,  only  to  break  into  a  fit 
of  weeping.  He  sat  down  with  her  on  his 
knee,  as  he  had  held  her  in  her  childhood.  It 
was  long  before  the  passion  of  tears  was  past. 
But  the  outbreak  was  no  sign  of  mental  storm. 


HONOR  FINDS  HERSELF      331 

The  moment  she  could  control  her  voice  she 
spoke  quite  calmly. 

"  You  need  n't  be  proud  of  me,  daddy.  It 
is  no  struggle.  I  regret  nothing." 

"  And  you  are  happy,  my  child? " 

"  Perfectly,  dad.  I  cried  because  you  are 
so  splendid." 

He  drew  her  closer — if  that  were  possible. 

"  Dear,  when  you  told  me  of  your  engage 
ment  I  could  have  denounced  it,  only  tha,t  I 
honestly  thought  you  capable  of  finding  your 
life's  happiness  with  Willoughby  Smith. 
Shame  to  me,  I  did  n't  know  my  own  daugh 
ter!  I  thought  the  child's  loving  heart  was 
dead." 

"  Frozen  up.  But  spring  is  here.  The  ice 
has  been  cracking  lately,  and  you  have  melted 
the  last  crust  to-night." 

He  kissed  her,  and  she  rose  to  pick  up  her 
cloak  and  her  letter,  turning  to  him  a  radiant 
face. 

"We  '11  post  it  now,  daddy."  A  cloud 
passed  over  her  face.  "  Oh,  I  dread  telling 
mother!" 

"  You  need  n't.  I  don't  intend  you  to  tell 
your  mother." 

She  rubbed  her  cheek  against  his  shoulder. 


332  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

"You  are  a  brick!" 

He  laughed. 

"  I  am  not  sparing  you,  my  dear,  but  her." 
He  lifted  her  chin  till  she  met  his  eyes,  smil 
ing  but  determined.  "  Honor,  you  and  your 
mother  have  different  ideals.  You  are  not 
just  to  her.  In  the  crash  of  her  hopes  she  will 
find  it  hard  to  be  just  to  you.  I  shall  explain 
to  her,  to-morrow,  how  you  and  I  feel,  and 
that  we  shall  all  be  wise  to  say  no  more  about 
it.  Whatever  she  may  say  to  you,  I  expect 
you  to  remember  that  you  have  disappointed 
her  dearest  ambition,  and  to  be  most  patient 
and  devoted  and  kind." 

"  You  angel,  I  shall  make  the  effort  of  my 
life  to  be  good." 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

THE  Burnhams  and  the  Farmings  now 
shared  the  Burnham  opera-box.  The 
music-mad  Margery  insisted  on  an  uninter 
rupted  right  of  possession,  and  Jessie,  most  of 
whose  set  were  satisfied  with  the  exhibition  of 
this  glory  once  or  twice  a  week,  was  delighted 
to  be  more  expensive  than  they.  She  cheer 
fully  paid  her  money  for  the  pleasure  of  see 
ing  her  name  inscribed  on  the  program  as 

owner  of  Box for  all  performances.    But 

except  on  Friday  and  on  Monday  evenings 
— the  two  occasions  which  she  considered 
"smart" — she  seldom  troubled  herself  to  sit 
in  it.  Knowing  her  engagements,  the  Fan- 
nings,  coming  to  their  familiar  places  on  Mon 
day,  were  surprised  to  discover  their  unmu 
sical  kinsfolk  already  in  occupation. 

"What,  you  here,  Jessie,  on  your  dinner- 
dance  night!"  Margery  cried;  while  her  mo- 

333 


334  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

ther  added,  "And  before  the  overture,  too!" 

"  Well,  it 's  Tolna— or,  more  likely,  it  is  n't 
Tolna— in  the  new  opera,  you  see.  And 
they  're  going  to  have  a  tremendous  house. 
Just  see  how  it  is  filling  up  in  the  gallery  al 
ready!  And  down-stairs,  too.  However,  I 
did  n't  come  for  love  of  Tolna's  beaux  yeuoc. 
The  dinner-dance  affair  fell  through,  and  we 
had  n't  a  thing  to  do.  Besides,  I  thought  there 
might  be  ructions  to-night." 

As  Mrs.  Fanning  pounced  on  her  brother 
for  his  advice  about  stocks, — a  subject  from 
which  New  Yorkers  can  no  more  keep  away 
than  could  Mr.  Dick  from  King  Charles's 
head, — Jessie  leaned  confidentially  to  her 
niece. 

"Madge,  was  n't  that  a  lovely  roast  that 
Harry  Mayne  wrote  yesterday?" 

Margery,  for  all  her  gala  dress,  was  in  no 
gala  mood.  The  last  twenty-four  hours  had 
been  the  most  miserable  of  her  life.  No  an 
ticipation  of  pleasure  in  the  music,  but  sheer 
restlessness,  had  driven  her  from  home, — 
touched,  perhaps,  by  some  vague  hope  that  she 
might  encounter  Denys  Alden,  and  say — she 
knew  not  what. 

She  was  spared  the  necessity  of  an  answer 
by  the  arrival  in  the  next  box  of  Hyacinth 


THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA  335 

Lawrence,  marvelously  attired  in  a  light- 
green  gown,  made  without  ruffle,  tuck,  or 
flounce,  and  apparently  without  seams,  as  if  it 
were  molded  on  her  long,  sinuous  figure — one 
unbroken  line  from  the  shoulder  to  the  end  of 
the  long  train.  With  this  creation,  Miss  Law 
rence  wore  jade  bracelets  and  a  chaplet  of  ivy 
leaves. 

"  There  's  Nell  with  the  Minthorns,"  Jessie 
noted, — to  call  over  the  rail:  "Nellie,  how 
exactly  like  a  caterpillar  you  do  look!  And  I 
see  you  've  got  your  dinner  with  you,  too." 

Quite  undisturbed,  Hyacinth  announced: 

*  You  are  going  to  have  mother's  conven 
tion,  Jessie." 

"  What  larks !   How  did  you  work  it  ? " 

"  I  told  mother  that  if  it  met  at  my  house,  I 
should  ask  the  Swami  Abvikananda  to  speak. 
I  said  that  it  was  only  common  fairness  to  hear 
both  sides." 

"  Now,  I  wonder  whether  I  could  n't  get 
some  '  First  Reader '  to  make  a  few  remarks 
to  'em,"  ruminated  Mrs.  Nortie,  when  Mar 
gery  suddenly  interrupted: 

"  Jessie,  I  beg  your  pardon;  I  entirely  for 
got  that  I  had  asked  her,  and  of  course  I  never 
dreamed  of  seeing  you  here.  But  the  fact  is, 
Honor  Hammond  is  coming." 


336  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

"Good  work!"  Jessie  laughed.  "I  sup 
pose  your  tea-party  came  off?  I  '11  poison  her 
mind  against  Willie.  No,  that  won't  do. 
She  '11  set  it  down  to  jealousy — which  it  is. 
All  the  same,  that  young  person  must  n't  ex 
pect —  Speak  of  angels!" 

As  the  door  creaked  the  young  women, 
turning  to  welcome  Miss  Hammond,  were  con 
fronted  hy  the  hesitant  form  and  blushing 
countenance  of  Mr.  Willoughby  Smith. 

"  She  is  n't  here  yet— hut  come  in,"  bade 
Mrs.  Nortie,  blandly.  "You  're  the  right 
man  in  the  right  place.  You  have  n't  given 
me  a  chance  yet  to  congratulate  you,  and  I 
most  particularly  want  to  do  it.  Oh,  you  '11 
see!" 

Before  this  somewhat  ominous  welcome, 
Mr.  Smith's  embarrassment  visibly  increased. 
Desperately  he  found  his  tongue. 

"  I  came  to  see  you,  Mrs.  Burnham.  1 
wanted  to  tell  you  that — that — my  engage 
ment  is  at  an  end." 

This  was  one  of  the  few  occasions  in  her  life 
when  words  deserted  Mrs.  Norton  Burnham. 
While  she  sat  staring  at  her  visitor,  it  was 
Margery  who  held  out  the  helping  hand. 

:<  When  two  persons  find  out  that  they  are 
not  altogether  adapted  to  each  other,  they  are 


THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA  337 

so  wise  to  acknowledge  it  in  time.  Are  n't 
they,  Mr.  Smith?" 

"That  's  what  I  thought,  Miss  Fanning. 
I  found  that  my  interests  were  not  being 
sympathized  with,  or  my  wishes  being  re 
spected,  as  I  felt  they  ought  to  be,  and  so  I — 
er — in  fact — " 

"  In  fact,  you  were  manly  enough  and  hon 
est  enough  to  admit  that  you  had  made  a  mis 
take,"  Margery  prompted. 

"Well,  I— er— intimated  to  Miss  Ham 
mond  that  I  feared  we  were  n't  as  congenial 
as  we  might  be.  I— er— some  fellows  might 
have  hated  to  do  that,  but  I  felt  that  she  'd 
thank  me  in  the  end." 

"  No  doubt  she  will  thank  you  in  the  begin 
ning."  Mrs.  Burnham  had  found  her  tongue. 
:<  We  expect  her  here  every  moment." 

Mr.  Smith  began  to  back  out  of  the  box. 

"I  can't  stay,  Mrs.  Burnham.  I  've  an 
appointment.  I  came  to  ask  you  if  you 
would  n't  go  on  with  the  Sing  Sing  dinner? 
You  never  do  really  fail  a  fellow,  and  of  course 
I  know  I  could  n't  bring  it  off  without  you." 

Mrs.  Burnham  hesitated  a  bare  moment. 
It  would  be  a  pleasure,  certainly,  to  snub  the 
fool, — but,  on  the  whole,  she  thought,  a  more 
lasting  pleasure  to  exhibit  him  once  more 


338  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

chained  to  her  chariot-wheels.  Besides,  she 
loved  the  extravaganza  of  the  dinner  for  its 
own  sake. 

"  Yes,  if  you  '11  give  me  carte  blanche  with 
the  invitations,"  she  decided.  "  And  we  '11  go 
and  consult  Pinky  Fraser  this  minute.  I 
did  n't  think  they  'd  come  to-night,  but  there 
they  all  are." 

As  her  cavalier  held  the  door  open  for  her, 
she  turned  her  head  to  launch  at  Margery  one 
large,  triumphant  wink. 

So  soon  on  the  heels  of  their  departure  did 
Miss  Hammond  arrive,  that  Margery  thought 
it  best  to  ask : 

"Did  you  meet  my  young  aunt  and  Mr. 
Smith?" 

Honor  laughed.  She  had  never  looked  so 
radiantly  lovely,  so  actually  happy,  as  to 
night. 

"Yes;  is  n't  it  funny?  Did  he  reluctantly 
confess  that  he  had  thrown  me  over?  Poor 
fellow !  This  morning  he  wasted  an  hour  beg 
ging  me  to  reconsider.  But  by  to-morrow  he 
will  be  glad  of  his  escape.  He  would  n't  have 
admitted  it,  but  I  could  see  that  he  was  n't  at 
ease  in  my  company.  After  the  first  day  or 
two,  he  felt  the  yoke.  Now  he  will  straighten 


THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA  339 

up  his  shoulders  and  breathe  the  breath  of 
freedom." 

Margery  smiled. 

"  He  did  hint  that  it  was  he  who  had  found 
the  need  of  it." 

Honor  laughed  again. 

"  I  don't  mind  that.  Except  to  you,  I 
don't  intend  to  contradict  it.  I  owe  him  that 
small  compensation.  I  treated  him  badly 
enough  in  accepting  him;  and  I  have  n't,  I  am 
ashamed  to  say,  shown  him  common  civility 
since.  It  will  please  him  to  think  that  every 
body  will  credit  his  version  of  the  story.  Be 
sides,  I  am  not  so  magnanimous  as  I  sound. 
For  of  course  nobody  who  knows  me  would 
ever  believe  that  I  had  jilted  all  those  millions. 
Why  should  they?" 

4  We  shall  believe  it.  And  so  will  every 
body,  if-" 

The  overture  to  "  I  Pagliacci "  was  wasted 
on  the  two  girls,  as  Honor  leaned  over  to 
clutch  Margery's  wrist,  saying  in  a  voice  vi 
brantly  earnest,  strangely  unlike  the  familiar 
monotony  of  its  tones : 

"  I  thought,  from  our  coming  in  together, 
that  you  might  think — and  especially  when  we 
did  not  wait  for  you— but  we  met  quite  acci- 


340  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

dentally  at  your  corner.  So  when  he  said  that 
you  had  said  you  were  at  home  at  five  o'clock, 
I  did  n't  like  to  make  a  point  of  it." 

Margery  looked  blank.  In  the  preoccupa 
tion  of  her  own  emotions,  this  lucid  explana 
tion  failed,  for  the  instant,  to  attach  itself  to 
Tolna. 

:<  We  used  to  play  together  when  we  were 
children,"  Honor  went  on.  "  He  came  to  the 
house  on  Thursday,  and  I  was  very  glad  to 
see  him  again — very.  But  my  change  of  mind 
had  absolutely  nothing  to  do  with  him.  And 
after  breaking  faith  with  Willoughby,  I 
should  certainly  never  marry  another  man. 
As  for  Morry  Fordham,  he  is  just  my  good 
friend,  as  he  used  to  be  when  I  was  ten  years 
old."  Honor  laughed.  "To  be  frank,  I 
have  never  known  a  less  sentimental  person— 
except  myself." 

Margery  read  this  speech  as  any  woman 
would,  but  she  answered  very  gravely  and 
sympathetically : 

"  Of  course,  dear.  I  invited  you  because  I 
thought  he  might  look  in.  It  was  so  nice  and 
frank  of  him  to  tell  me  that  you  were  old 
friends.  Nobody  except  me  knows  about 
that  interrupted  tea-party.  It  is  I  who  should 


THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA  341 

explain  my  desertion  of  you.  I  was  detained 
by  unexpected  complications." 

Honor's  grip  on  her  friend's  wrist  relaxed 
somewhat.  Reassured  of  Margery's  under 
standing,  she  seemed  about  to  offer  further 
confidences,  when  an  usher  entered  the  box 
with  a  scrap  of  paper  for  Miss  Fanning. 

May  I  see  you  a  moment,  outside  the  door? 

M.  F. 

Glancing  quietly  at  Honor,  who  had  turned 
her  face  to  the  stage,  she  rose  softly  and 
slipped  through  the  little  cloak-room  to  the 
lobby,  closing  both  doors  behind  her. 

Theirs  was  the  last  box  but  one  on  the  tier, 
this  very  end  of  the  promenade  being  con 
cealed  by  the  curve  of  the  horseshoe  from  the 
throngs  nearer  the  stairs.  As  the  boxes  on 
either  side  were  already  filled,  Maurice's  mo 
ment  seemed  likely  to  be  uninterrupted. 

"Are  n't  you  singing,  after  all?"  the  girl 
cried. 

"  Not  in  this  nightmare."  Maurice's  bright 
ness  seemed  under  eclipse.  "  Miss  Fanning, 
Denys  is  n't  here  to-night.  Things  must  be 
pretty  bad  with  him  if  he  won't  come  to  hear 


342  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

me  do  Roland.  He  has  worked  over  me,  these 
two  years,  with  prayers  and  tears,  to  get  me 
'  inside '  the  part,  and  now— he  can't  look  at  it ! 
I  heard  from  that  great  brute,  Hirt,  just  now, 
that  the  poor  chap  is  half  out  of  his  mind  with 
concern  over  me — though  I  don't  know  why 
he  should  be,  except  that  he  's  Denys.  Hirt 
grinned  like  a  Chessy  cat  when  he  told  me. 
But  I  can't  stand  keeping  old  Denys  on  the 
rack  any  longer.  I  shall  go  straight  home 
after  the  services.  And  what  I  came  to  ask 
you  is  whether  I  may  n't  give  him  some  hint 
of  the  truth?  In  my  own  mind,  I  have  n't  a 
doubt  that  it 's  you,  and  not  I,  that  he  's  wast 
ing  in  despair  over.  Of  course  I  can't  ex 
plain  anything  without  your  leave.  But  don't 
you  think,  really,  that  the  joke  has  gone  far 
enough?" 

"  It  has  gone  a  great  deal  too  far,"  she  as 
sented,  almost  sobbing,  as  she  poured  forth 
the  tale  of  her  undoing.  "  Oh,  Mr.  Fordham, 
I  never  meant  to  hurt  him  so.  I  did  n't  know 
what  I  was  doing.  Oh,  I  have  grown  years 
older  since  yesterday.  You  were  perfectly 
right  when  you  said  it  was  my  contemptible 
vanity  that  made  me  so  hard  on  him.  You  see, 
girls  take  it  for  granted  that  they  have  all  the 


THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

pride  and  delicacy  and  sensitiveness— I  never 
suspected  that  a  man  could  suffer  so." 

"Yes,"  agreed  Maurice,  serenely.  "I 
ought  to  have  warned  you  that  the  duffer 
can't  stand  being  made  game  of." 

"  It  was  n't  that,"  the  girl  cried  indignantly, 
her  good-will  toward  her  companion  making  a 
sudden  recoil.  She  had  to  remind  herself  of 
his  deserts,  his  supreme  merit  of  being  Denys's 
friend,  before  she  could  forgive  him  this  trav 
esty  of  the  situation.  It  was  plain  to  her 
how,  despite  excellent  qualities,  he  must  jar  on 
the  finer  nature  of  Denys !  "It  was  n't  that  at 
all,"  she  repeated,  with  hot  reproof.  "  I  lac 
erated  his  most  sacred  feelings,  tortured  them, 
flayed  them!  I  deserved  his  contempt— but  it 
hurts  none  the  less." 

"  Well,  perhaps  something  can  be  done  yet. 
As  I  see  the  case,  Miss  Fanning,  Denys  has 
got  to  know  why  you  did  what  you  did." 

Her  blush  was  charming. 

"  I  want  him  to  know,  Mr.  Fordham." 

"  Then  don't  give  up  the  ship,  Miss  Fan 
ning.  I  can  see  it  coming  into  port,  yet,  all 
flags  flying."  His  confident,  good-comrade's 
smile  was  so  heartening  that  her  own  smile, 
somewhat  watery,  answered  it. 


THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

In  a  day-dream  she  was  turning  away,  when 
she  suddenly  remembered  what  tidings  she  had 
in  store  for  him. 

"  Oh,  how  selfish  I  am!  I  have  n't  thanked 
you,  which  you  won't  mind,  nor  given  you  my 
great  news,  which  you  will.  She  has  broken 
her  engagement!" 

"Not  Honor?" 

"  Yes.  She  has  just  told  me.  She  is  there, 
in  our  box." 

His  hand  was  on  the  door-knob  when  she 
laid  hers  on  it. 

:<  Wait !  You  have  been  helping  me.  Now 
I  can  help  you.  Mr.  Fordham,  she  says  that 
her  throwing  over  Willie  Smith  had  nothing 
whatever  to  do  with  you." 

"  I  'm  not  conceited  enough  to  suppose  that 
it  had." 

"  No,  of  course  not.  But — I  suppose  you 
do  mean  to  ask  her  to  marry  you,  Mr.  Ford- 
ham?" 

"  I  will  not  conceal  from  you,  Miss  Fan 
ning,  that  such  is  my  immediate  intention." 

:<  Well,  don't  you  see  that  if  you  ask  her  im 
mediately  she  will  say  no?  She  could  n't  let 
everybody  think  that  she  jilted  another  man 
for  you." 

"Did  she  tell  you-" 


THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA  345 

"  No,  of  course  not.  But  I  can  see.  Some 
girls  would  be  glad  to  be  on  with  the  new  love 
the  moment  they  were  off  with  the  old,  if  it 
were  only  to  prevent  people's  believing  Mr. 
Smith's  tale  that  he  broke  the  engagement. 
But  Honor  is  different.  She  is  so  proud  that 
she  does  n't  care  what  people  think,  but  only 
what  she  does." 

"  Do  you  mean  that  I  'd  better  wait  over 
night?" 

"  I  should  wait  a  few  months." 

For  a  moment  he  stood  pondering,  his  hand 
still  on  the  door-knob.  Then  he  looked  at 
Margery  with  his  boyish  smile. 

"  I  'm  awfully  obliged  to  you,  Miss  Fan 
ning.  I  don't  doubt  I  shall  rue  the  hour  when 
I  rejected  your  advice.  But  I  find  I  must 
see  her." 

"  Oh,  I  wash  my  hands  of  you!"  Margery 
cried,  immediately  belying  her  own  words. 
"  But  of  course  you  can't  speak  to  her  in  the 
box,  with  mother  and  Uncle  Norton  there,  and 
all  the  Minthorns  staring.  I  '11  send  her  to 
you." 

On  her  way,  Miss  Fanning  reflected:  "  If  I 
send  her  out  by  a  trick  she  will  be  angry.  But 
if  I  tell  her  the  truth  she  won't  go."  Choos 
ing  the  lesser  risk,  she  said : 


346  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

"  Dear,  there  's  a  man,  with  a  message  for 
you,  waiting  just  outside." 

"From  mother,  no  doubt.  She  and  dad 
are  down-stairs,"  Honor  answered  placidly  as 
she  stole  out  into  the  promenade. 

She  started  back  with  a  cry : 

"Oh,Bim!   You!" 

*  Yes,  dear.  Let  me  speak  to  you  a  mo 
ment.  I  have  just  learned  that  I  may  speak." 

She  shrank  back  against  the  door,  making 
no  answer. 

"  Honor,  I  have  never  cared  for  any  girl 
except  you.  I  shall  never  forgive  myself  be 
cause  I  let  you  go  and  get  engaged  to  Wil- 
loughby  Smith  before  I  ever  played  a  stroke 
in  the  game.  Well,  I  could  n't  say  anything 
to  that.  He  was  a  millionaire  and  a  very  de 
cent  fellow.  It  was  all  right.  But  since  by 
God's  grace  that  engagement  is  broken  off,  I 
can  come  to  you  and  say  that  I  love  you  with 
my  whole  heart  and  soul  and  expect  to  remain 
yours  to  command  while  the  breath  of  life  is  in 


me." 


"  Oh,  Bim ! "  she  cried.     "  Oh,  Bim ! " 

"Oh,  Honor!" 

"  But,  Bim,  I  did  n't  do  it  with  any  refer 
ence  to  you.  I  did  it  because  I  saw  the  horror 
of  marrying  without  love.  Perhaps  you 


THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA  347 

helped  me  to  see  it— in  fact,  I  know  you  did— 
but  I  should  have  set  Mr.  Smith  free  if  you 
had  told  me  that  you  loved  some  one  else,  or 
that  you  were  going  away  and  would  never 
see  me  again.  Do  you  believe  me? " 

"  Of  course  I  do." 

"  Bim,  it  has  meant  the  opening  of  a  new 
world  for  me.  There  's  father.  Ever  since  I 
came  back  from  the  convent  he  seemed  to  have 
the  same  experience  that  you  were  afraid  of — 
he  could  n't  find  his  little  girl.  He  stood  aloof 
and  watched  mother  and  me  as  if  he  did  n't 
belong  to  us.  But  when  I  told  him  that  I  was 
going  to  give  up  my  great  match — "  her  eyes 
filled  with  sudden  tears.  "  Well,  of  all  the 
angels ! 

"  He  offered  to  tell  mother — insisted  on  it. 
Of  course  it  was  an  awful  blow  to  mother's 
ambitions  for  me.  But  she  has  been  a  perfect 
dear  about  it — I  never  knew  mother  before, 
any  more  than  I  did  dad.  They  both  are 
lovely  to  me.  And  dad  is  so  sorry  for  mother, 
and  she  is  so  glad  of  his  sympathy,  that  they 
are  actually  having  a  silver  honeymoon.  We 
have  taken  a  house  in  the  country  for  a  year, 
and  we  are  going  to  live  quietly  and  get  ac 
quainted. 

"  And  so,  don't  you  see,  Morry,  that  now, 


348  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

when  I  want  to  show  dad  how  I  appreciate 
him,  and  want  to  make  mother  love  me  so 
much  that  she  will  be  glad  every  hour  that  I 
did  n't  leave  her — don't  you  see  that  now  I 
can't  turn  my  back  on  them  and  marry  you? " 

"  Better  wait  till  you  're  asked,  miss." 

"Oh!  Excuse  me!  I  understood  that  you 
had  asked  me." 

"  Not  at  all.  All  I  require  of  you  at  pres 
ent  is  to  put  my  name  on  the  waiting-list,  so 
that  at  any  future  day,  when  you  feel  that 
your  romantic  parents  might  like  to  have  their 
honeymoon  by  themselves,  you  will  consider 
my  qualifications  along  with  my  competi 
tors'." 

"  Morry,  you  are  laughing  at  me,  but  you 
do  understand?" 

"  I  understand  that  I  want  to  do  anything 
on  earth  that  you  want  me  to,  because  I  know 
it  is  right." 

She  gave  him  a  long  look  from  the  depths 
of  her  wonderful  eyes. 

"  Bim,  you  are  simply  the  most  satisfactory 
person  that  ever  lived." 

"  Honor,  you  must  n't  say  such  things  to  me 
when  we  're  not  engaged." 

MONSIEUR  TOLNA  mistook  in  supposing  that 
his  inseparable  shadow  was  not  in  the  Opera- 


THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA  349 

House.  But  if  poor  Denys  could  no  more 
keep  away  than  the  moth  can  keep  away  from 
the  candle,  he  expected  little  more  pleasure 
than  the  moth  finds  in  the  flame.  Though 
now  he  was  beyond  minding  the  publication  of 
Maurice's  disappearance,  the  fact  held  for  him 
a  new  bitterness.  For  Maurice  had  been 
right,  and  he  wrong.  He  had  driven  the  boy 
from  his  home,  from  his  career,  from  his  honor, 
by  a  fantastic  fraud. 

Automatically,  his  steps  turned  toward  the 
stage  entrance,  when  he  pulled  himself  up 
with  sad  self -scorn.  He  had  killed  his  goose 
with  the  golden  eggs,  deliberately  thrown 
away  his  only  claim  to  enter  that  paradise  *  be 
hind  the  scenes.'  Turning  back  into  Broad 
way,  he  passed  the  big  posters  still  proclaim 
ing  the  appearance  of  Maurus  Tolna  as  Ro 
land  in  the  first  American  production  of 
Tonti's  most  successful  opera,  "L'Enchan- 
teresse."  He  wondered  dully  whom  Hirt  had 
put  into  the  part— Grigni  or  Erdmann.  It 
hardly  mattered ;  either  would  murder  it. 

As  he  crossed  the  foyer  with  the  admission 
ticket  which  was  all  that  the  box-office  could 
furnish,  he  felt  a  hand  on  his  shoulder.  Look 
ing  up  into  Hirt's  face,  he  instantly  saw  that 
he  had  been  stopped  for  a  purpose. 

"You  have  news?"  he  cried,  only  to  be 


350  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

dashed  from  his  hope  by  the  answer,  "  I  know 
no  more  than  I  did  yesterday."  He  was  turn 
ing  away,  when  he  found  himself  pushed  along 
into  Hirt's  private  office. 

"Just  come  in  here,  will  you?  I  want  to 
speak  to  you.  The  opera  business  must  go 
on,  you  see,  even  in  the  tragic  absence  of 
Tolna,"  Hirt  said,  with  an  odd  smile.  "  Mr. 
Alden,  I  am  dissatisfied  with  Obermuller  and 
I  intend  to  install  a  new  stage-manager  before 
we  start  on  the  road.  How  would  you  like 
the  job?" 

Finding  his  candidate  too  surprised  to  reply, 
the  impresario  explained  further. 

"  You  and  I  have  had  our  little  frictions, 
Mr.  Alden.  Well,  on  my  side,  at  least,  they 
were  not  personal.  My  quarrel  was  with  the 
office  you  hold — in  my  opinion  (I  speak 
plainly,  as  I  have  always  spoken) ,  a  superflu 
ous  and  mischievous  one.  Your  presence  as 
Monsieur  Tolna's  interpreter  annoys  me.  I 
prefer  to  deal  directly  with  my  people.  And 
it  has  made  me  all  sorts  of  trouble  with  my 
company,  every  one  of  whom  wants  his  or  her 
particular  friend  behind  the  scenes  if  Tolna  is 
to  have  his.  As  Tolna's  manager,  you  are  an 
exasperation.  As  my  manager,  I  make  no 
doubt  you  would  be  a  tower  of  strength.  I 


THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA  351 

know  the  training  a  man  gets  who  has  been 
with  Letsky  in  Vienna.  I  have  seen  a  hun 
dred  times  that  you  know  your  business  better 
than  anybody  it  has  ever  been  my  good  for 
tune  to  meet.  Will  you  come  to  me  ? " 

"  Is  n't  your  motive  a  good  deal  like  a  wo 
man's  when  she  marries  a  man  to  get  rid  of 
him?  "  Denys  attempted  to  take  the  situation 
in  a  light  and  offhand  manner.  But  before 
he  knew  how  he  got  there,  he  was  on  his  feet 
shaking  the  manager's  hand  in  both  of  his. 
"  Herr  Hirt,  you  have  turned  into  reality  the 
dream  of  my  life." 

HE  had  been  late  in  starting  for  the  Opera- 
House.  Now,  as  he  entered  the  auditorium, 
the  orchestra  was  already  beginning  the  ex 
quisite,  haunting  overture  of  "  L'Enchan- 
teresse."  Almost  against  his  will,  his  spirits 
rose.  He  knew  that  he  ought  not  to  enjoy 
one  moment  till  he  could  right  the  wrong  he 
had  done  his  friend,  yet  he  could  not  but  re 
joice  in  the  compliment  paid  him,  in  the  op 
portunity  before  him  of  correcting  old  abuses, 
of  introducing  new  devices,  of  inventing  novel 
interpretations,  of  breathing  the  breath  of  life 
into  the  dry  bones  of  dead  conventions— in 
short,  of  riding  his  hobbies  with  a  free  rein, 


352  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLXA 

till  the  American  operatic  stage  should  become 
the  model  for  the  Old  World.  As  he  took  his 
place  at  the  back  of  the  three  solid  rows  of  en 
thusiasts  standing  behind  the  orchestra  chairs, 
the  atmosphere  of  the  theater  intoxicated  him, 
as  always.  He  began  to  admit  the  possibility 
that  Maurice  might  yet  be  traced,  and  that  all 
might  be  well. 

Then  he  groaned  aloud,  horrified  that  for  a 
moment  he  had  forgotten  his  broken  heart. 

A  lady  near  turned  her  head;  then,  appar 
ently  assured  that  what  sounded  like  agony 
was  only  musical  appreciation,  continued  a 
low- voiced  conversation  with  her  escort. 

"  But  do  you  suppose  there  's  any  truth  in 
the  c Palladium '  story?" 

"  Did  n't  you  see  Hirt's  denial  in  the  '  Cal 
liope  '  this  morning? " 

"  Monsieur  Tolna's  own  denial  would  have 
been  more  convincing." 

"My  dear  girl,  they  did  n't  want  to  con 
vince  you.  They  wanted  you  and  all  the  rest 
of  us  to  crowd  in  here  to-night,  all  a-twitter  to 
find  out  whether  he  is  going  to  sing." 

"Just  as  I  did!  Harry,  how  cynical  of  you." 

Now  the  curtain  was  rising  on  the  lovely 
scene  of  the  enchanted  lake,  and  the  whispers 


THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA  353 

in  the  audience  hushed  to  absolute  silence. 
Morgan  le  Fay  sang  and  frolicked  with  her 
nymphs;  old  Merlin  wove  his  dark  spells; 
King  Arthur's  knights  came  by,  a-hunting. 
And  now  should  young  Sir  Roland,  alone  and 
on  foot,  steal  back  to  the  haunts  that  old  tales 
say  shelter  the  fairy  Morgan. 

Denys  could  not  see  the  stage.  He  must 
wait  till  the  song  should  tell  him  who  was  es 
saying  Roland.  Before  the  first  notes  sounded 
came  such  a  storm  of  welcome  as  even  the 
hero-worshiping  Metropolitan  audience  does 
not  give  every  day.  Denys  quivered  from 
head  to  foot.  Could  Grigni— Erdmann— 
inspire  this?" 

And  now  Roland,  half  timidly  at  first, 
gaining  confidence  as  he  goes  on,  begins  to 
plead  with  the  powerful  fay  for  the  love-po 
tion.  Either  Denys  was  mad,  or  it  was  Tolna's 
voice.  There  was  something  strange  about  it, 
a  difference,  a  new  timbre,  a  capacity  for 
emotion  unknown  to  him,  but  in  all  the  world 
there  was  no  such  other  voice. 

Yet  he  might  be— he  probably  was— mad. 
He  touched  the  lady  in  front  of  him  on  his 
left. 

"IsitTolna?" 


354  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

'Yes — hush!"  she  answered,  intent  on  the 
last  notes  of  the  aria. 

Denys  turned  to  the  person  on  his  right,  a 
lad  of  fourteen  or  fifteen,  who  had  been  listen 
ing  with  all  his  soul.  Surely  the  boy  would 
not  deceive  him. 

:<  Who  was  it  singing? "  he  asked. 

The  boy's  look  withered  him.  "Do  you 
suppose  there  's  anybody  on  earth  that  can 
sing  that  way  but  Tolna? " 

As  Monsieur  Tolna  went  to  his  dressing-room 
after  the  fourteenth  curtain-call,  he  was  half 
strangled  by  Denys's  arm  about  his  neck. 

"  Maurice,  it 's  the  success  of  your  life! " 

"  Glad  you  think  so,  Denny.  More  glad 
you  're  here.  I  thought  you  were  n't." 

"  Maurice,  I  owe  you  the  humblest  apology. 
I  was  all  in  the  wrong  in  that  matter — " 

"  Oh,  enough  said.  You  thought  you  were 
right,  Denny.  Are  you  going  to  take  that 
stage-managership  ?  Good  enough !  We  '11  be 
a  happy  family  once  more,  for  I  've  signed 
with  Hirt  for  three  years." 

1  You  have !  When  you  declared  you  were 
going  to  leave  the  stage? " 

Maurice  laughed. 

"  Oh,  those  were  my  salad  days,  when  I  was 


THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA  355 

green  in  judgment.  They  are  over  now.  I 
can't  afford  to  be  romantic  and  go  knight- 
erranting  round  in  brokers'  offices.  I  might 
not  succeed  as  a  broker's  clerk,  and  I  can't 
take  risks.  I  've  got  to  bone  down  to  the  com 
monplace,  humdrum  trade  of  opera-singing 
and  make  money  for  my  wife." 

"So  that 'sit?" 

"  That 's  it,  Denny." 

"  What  a  type  of  America!  You  won't  be 
an  artist  for  Art's  sake,  but  you  will  be  one  to 
make  money  for  your  wife! " 

"  Portrait  of  a  famous  singer,  life-size,"  se 
renely  acquiesced  Maurice,  going  on  with  his 
toilet. 

"Why  did  n't  you  tell  me,  boy,  that  you 
cared  for  somebody?  Of  course  I  should  at 
once  have  stopped  urging  my  plea." 

The  singer  laughed  into  his  mirror.  "  Oh, 
no,  you  would  n't,  Denys.  You  'd  have  told 
me  that  I  deceived  myself;  that  I  really  loved 
Miss  Fanning." 

Denys,  wincing,  hastened  to  turn  the  sub 
ject. 

"  If  we  could  have  guessed  that  you  were 
coming  back— " 

"  You  knew.     I  said  so  in  my  note." 

"  You  only  said  that  you  were  going  away." 


356  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

"  Why,  Denny !  surely  I  said  c  till  Monday '  ? 
No?  Well,  I  wrote  in  a  great  hurry,  to  get 
out  of  your  reach.  But  anyhow  Fra^ois 
knew— and  Hirt.  Hirt  and  I  arranged  it  to 
gether." 

"  And  Hirt ! "  Denys  echoed,  suddenly  sink 
ing  down  on  a  trunk.  Maurice  turned  around 
from  the  restoration  of  an  eyebrow. 

:'Why,  you  must  have  known  that  if  I 
skipped  Saturday's  performance,  it  was  by  ar 
rangement  with  Hirt.  You  must  have  known 
I  would  n't  break  a  date,  old  chap? " 

There  was  nothing  to  say  to  this,  and  Denys 
attempted  nothing.  He  sat  still,  watching 
the  tenor's  deft  movements  in  a  long  silence. 
After  his  own  orgy  of  emotions,  it  was  stupe 
fying  to  find  the  object  of  them  entirely  tran 
quil,  matter  of  fact,  matter  of  course,  as  if 
nothing  had  happened.  It  was  no  less  stupe 
fying  to  realize  that,  except  in  his  own  imagi 
nation,  nothing  had  happened. 

At  last  Denys  found  tongue. 

"Of  all  blind,  fatuous,  determined,  and 
thoroughgoing  fools,  I  seem  to  have  been  the 
most  blind,  fatuous,  determined,  and  thor 
oughgoing." 

"You  mean  your  conduct  toward  Miss 
Fanning?  Don't  put  it  in  the  past  tense, 
Denny." 


THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA  357 

Denys  rose,  looking  rather  white. 

"That  is  the  one  name,  Maurice,  which 
henceforth  I  can  never  hear,  even  from  you." 

"There  you  go  off  at  half-cock  again! 
Look  here,  Denys ;  you  made  me  listen  for  two 
days  to  talk  of  Miss  Fanning.  Now  do  you 
listen  for  two  minutes." 

THE  curtain  was  just  rising  on  the  second  act 
of  "  L'Enchanteresse "  when  Denys  Alden, 
hot-footed,  breathless,  his  hair  over  his  eyes, 
shot  into  the  Burnhams'  box,  precisely  as  on 
that  night,  ten  days  before,  when  Margery 
first  saw  Tolna.  Mrs.  Burnham  was  still 
visiting  the  Frasers ;  Mr.  Burnham  was  asleep 
in  his  corner ;  Mrs.  Fanning  whispered  across 
the  rail  to  Mrs.  Minthorn,  while  Honor  Ham 
mond  leaned  over  the  front  of  the  box,  as  if 
she  longed  for  wings  to  fly  where  her  spirit  al 
ready  was.  Only  Margery  heard  the  door 
open,  and,  turning,  saw  Denys  in  the  tiny 
anteroom. 

Before  she  knew  that  she  had  thought  of 
moving,  she  stood  at  his  side  among  the  dan 
gling  cloaks. 

"  Margery,  can  you  forgive  me?  " 

"  Denys,  can  you  forgive  me?" 

The  end  of  the  opera  might  have  found 


358  THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA 

them  still  there  in  each  other's  arms,  had  not 
the  exuberant  return  of  Jessie  Burnham, 
Victrix,  driven  them  apart. 

"Hello,  Mr.  Alden!"  exclaimed  the  vol 
uble  lady.  "  So  the  Prodigal  returned,  did 
he?  I  can't  see  if  he  has  the  gold  ring  on  his 
finger  and  the  chain  round  his  neck.  But  of 
course  you  'd  have  the  stage  properties  all 
right.  How  did  you  enjoy  that  little  yarn  in 
the  *  Palladium'  ?  Well,  I  'm  ready  to  call  our 
account  square,  now,  if  you  are.  Shake ! — no ; 
wait  a  minute.  Why  did  n't  you  acknowledge 
my  floral  tribute?  You  like  symbolism,  I  've 
heard  you  say.  But  you  have  n't  even  an 
swered  the  message  on  the  card.  I  can  tell 
you  it  took  me  some  time  to  think  up  one  equal 
to  the  occasion." 

"Mrs.  Burnham,"  faltered  Denys,  "I— I 
did  not  even  read  it.  I — I  was  very  busy. 
Pray  pardon  my  negligence.  You  have 
doubled  your  kindness  by  speaking  of  it." 

"  Oh,  have  I,"  smiled  the  lady,  slipping  into 
her  corner. 

Moving  past  her,  Margery  and  Denys  ac 
cepted  the  decorous  proximity  of  two  front 
chairs.  He  was  holding  her  hand  under  cover 
of  her  scarf.  For  a  time  neither  of  them  was 
capable  of  hearing  a  bar  of  the  music.  But  at 


THE  TRUTH  ABOUT  TOLNA  359 

length,  when  Roland,  escaping  the  spell  of  the 
treacherous  Morgan,  pours  out  to  Violante  all 
his  love  and  longing,  the  wonderful  notes 
would  no  longer  be  denied.  Listening  awhile 
in  ever-growing  wonder,  Denys  at  last  whis 
pered  : 

"Margery,  does  happiness  make  one  not 
only  see,  but  hear,  rose-color]  Do  I  dream,  or 
is  this  boy  singing  as  he  never  sang  before? 
Is  n't  he,  after  all,  a  mere  mechanism  without 
a  soul?  An  hour  ago  I  was  sure  that  I  was 
mad.  But  I  can  trust  your  sanity.  Mar 
gery,  does  he  sing  with  the  charm  and  sensi 
bility  and  exaltation  and  passion  which  I  have 
gone  about  pretending  that  he  had?" 

Without  a  word,  with  the  smallest  move 
ment  of  her  head,  Margery  looked  toward 
Honor. 

For  a  moment  his  glance  dwelt  on  the  girl's 
rapt  face;  then  followed  her  gaze  to  the  face 
of  the  singer  turned  upward  toward  her,  see 
ing  only  her. 

Smiling,  he  whispered: 

"  It  seems,  then,  that  the  more  I  romanced 
and  rhapsodized  about  his  fire,  his  poetry,  his 
*  soul,'  the  more  exactly  I  was  telling  the  truth 
about  Tolna." 


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Runkle,  B. 

The  truth  about  Tolna.  T? 


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UNIVERSITYDOF  CALIFORNIA 


